The Space Between
by reine Seele
Summary: Two years after the events of the movie takes place, Thor goes looking for his brother. What he finds is not what he expected, but is it enough to bring his brother home? A re-telling of the Norse myth, "The Building of Asgard's Wall." M for Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Things need to be said.**

**First, I need to give credit where credit is due, a lot of the inspiration came from the amazing retelling of "The Building of Asgard's Wall" found in Kevin Crossley-Holland's interpretation, _The Norse Myths_. Easily one of my favorites.**

**Secondly, I freakin' adored the movie. One of the best things Marvel has done since Ironman. Chris looked great as Thor, and Tom's Loki was _amazing. _Kenneth Branagh is an amazing director who really knows how to get into the spirit of acting. Yay for Shakespeare.**

**Thirdly, this is mpreg and it's pretty much canon in actual Norse mythology. I am aware _Thor_ doesn't have to follow actual Norse mythology (and oftentimes it doesn't), but I kinda don't care. So, if you don't like mpreg at all, I advise not reading. There's also hints of slash, maybe, if you squint hard enough. I'm honestly more of a fan of bromance.**

**Finally, I listened to a song that fueled a lot of my writing, and inspired the title. The song is "The Space Between" by Dave Matthews Band. I recommend listening to it.**

**So for those who read, enjoy. :) Reviews are nice, but not necessary to my survival. I just enjoy hearing what you liked about my story.**

**I own nothing and make no profit from this monstrosity.**

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><p><strong>The Space Between<strong>

Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. **–Marc Brown**

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><p>By the time Thor received word from his mother, Frigga, of the blight that had befallen Asgard, he was immersed in a vicious and bloody war with the trolls. The letter she had sent on the wings of a falcon was lost among his war plans and maps, soon forgotten and certainly left unanswered. For months he was completely unaware of the siege the Vanirs had laid upon his home, his glorious city, and of the bloodshed and the deaths of many he once called friend and brother. A little over a year passed before word finally reached his ears, but by then the damage was done and it was far too late to lend his hammer to Odin's service.<p>

When Thor finally heard tell of the destruction of the great wall surrounding Asgard, he knew he would have to make haste for the Bifrost. He would be needed to help rebuild the wall, no doubt, and Thor had long since grown weary of the burden of war. Though the battle was a necessary one, he had tired of the dying screams heard on the battlefield, of the warm blood gushing over his hands every time he slayed an enemy, and especially of the sound of bones cracking and breaking beneath the powerful strokes of Mjolnir. The battle he led against the trolls ended with the fall of their king, many months after it began, and many months after Asgard was attacked. Finally, Thor was free to return to his home.

Though the journey using the Bifrost lasted mere minutes, Thor felt perhaps he had been absent many years, for when he finally set food upon the gates of the Rainbow Bridge once more, he beheld a sight most splendid…and impossible: the great wall of Asgard, mostly rebuilt. The towering spires reached well into the sky and the smooth surfaced walls looked as if they might withstand all the ferocities of Ragnarok itself. The main gates, at which Thor now stood, gleamed golden and sturdy in the fading sunlight, shod with spikes and bolts that boasted to keep any foe at bay. Thor stood there staring in disbelief until a heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. Surprised, he spun around with his arm raised, ready to strike his attacker, but yielded at the familiar and welcome sight of Heimdall.

"It is good to see you again, Thor Odinson," the gatekeeper said, his expression a careful mask of neutrality. Gratefulness shone in his amber eyes, and Thor knew he was welcome home.

"It is good to be home again," he agreed, "though I did not expect to be greeted with such a great and mighty wall. I had heard the Vanirs razed it to the ground months ago. I was unaware the Asgardians were capable of rebuilding such a wall to replace that which was lost."

"We are not," Heimdall said slowly, in that careful, solid way of his, never saying enough to quench Thor's curiosity.

"I suppose I'll have to ask Mother then," he sighed, shouldering Mjolnir and striding through the gates, which were immediately raised on his approach. Though his return would have normally been heralded by scores of Asgardians, trumpets, and celebration, Thor had not sent word ahead of his arrival, and thus enjoyed a much warranted peaceful walk to Odin's Keep. Halfway up the steps, though, his quiet reverie was broken by the sound of a joyful cry, and then Sif was there, with his greatest friends, The Warriors Three, hugging him and slapping him on the back, ruffling his hair and all but carrying him off to dine with them.

"Put me down!" Thor laughed, struggling against Volstagg's strong grip. "Please, I have to pay a visit to Mother and Father!"

"Ahhh, no doubt they already know of your arrival!" Fandral exclaimed, a broad smile creasing his handsome face. "Odin knows and sees all! If he wants to see you he will send for you!"

"But I have need to speak to Mother about the wall that surrounds Asgard," Thor insisted, finally going limp in Volstagg's grip. "I received word of a war and heard the great wall was completely destroyed, and yet I arrive at the bridge only to find myself faced with the largest, thickest wall this side of Midgard! Come now, if you won't let me see my parents, at least tell me what happened!"

A silence swept over the Warriors Three and the lovely Sif, and as one they turned their shining faces to the ground, as if ashamed. Thor slipped down from Volstagg's hug and looked upon his friends with great unease resting on his heart. Something was wrong, something was very terribly wrong. Thor grabbed hold of Hogun, the Grim, and gave his shoulder shake.

"Tell me what has happened," he demanded softly. "Please, I would rather hear it from my friends than anyone else."

"Perhaps…it would be best if you spoke to the All-Father about it," Sif said, casting a glance at Thor's questioning face. He looked around at his friends, and all of them refused to meet his eyes.

"Fine then," he said, bowing his head in farewell. "I shall seek you out later, friends. Try to save some boar for me, Volstagg, if you can control your appetite long enough."

Bidding them goodbye, Thor continued up the stairs until he reached the throne room where Odin could usually be found. However, the room was empty, save for a few servants, all of which immediately bowed upon Thor's entrance. He waved them all aside, just in time to see his mother hurry through the entrance opposite the grand hall. Tears shone on her cheeks and she lifted her skirts to run.

"My son!" she cried out joyfully, embracing him with the fierceness only a mother could possess. Thor wrapped his arms around her shoulders and buried his face in her neck, feeling at peace in the arms of his mother. Her hands seemed to lift the troubles from his shoulders and steal the very doubts from his mind as she stroked his face with a loving hand.

"It does my heart good to see you alive," she said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. "I had nightmares every night that you would fall in battle. I wish you would send word from time to time, you are as bad as your father in that respect."

"Would that I had time, mother," Thor said, kissing the backs of her hands. "Where is Father? I thought he would be on his throne, but…"

"He is out hunting," she sighed. "You know how he gets after Odin Sleep. He shall return within a few days."

"I see…then perhaps I can ask _you_ the question that's been burning on my mind ever since I returned."

"And what is that, my dear?"

"The wall, Mother. Where did it come from? Who built it? Everyone I've met so far, Heimdall and the Warriors Three, even Sif are reluctant to say anything. Surely it cannot be as bad as all that!"

His mother closed her eyes and heaved a sigh laden with regret.

"I know the others would have rather kept it from you," she said, "but I will not lie to your face about such a…delicate matter. As you ask, so shall you receive the knowledge you seek: whilst you were off defending the Nine Realms, a mason appeared here and offered to rebuild our wall. He requested eighteen months of time, the sun and the moon, and Freyja as payment."

Thor snorted. As if Freyja would willingly allow herself to be traded around, like cattle. Briefly he wondered if this mason left Asgard with all his limbs intact. He supposed that, since the sun and moon still shone every morning and night that the bargain had not been honored, but his mother was clearly not done with her story. She turned from him and gripped her arms tightly, hugging herself. Thor reached out to touch her, but she shied away from him.

"The All-Father would not hear of it, of course," she said, "and so we decided that a new bargain had to be forged. He…he brought Loki to Asgard, Thor."

Thor was speechless for a moment.

But only a moment.

"_What?_" he asked, incredulous. "_Loki? Here?_"

"Calm yourself, my son," Frigga said, turning back around with sorrow. "He helped us. Freyja remains within the Asgardian Realm and the sun and the moon in their place in the heavens. As you have no doubt noticed, the wall has also been restored. Without Loki's cleverness, it neither would have built so expertly, nor so quickly."

"Forgive me, Mother," Thor said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean no disrespect, it is just…how could you welcome him back, after all he did? Destroying the Bifrost—which was no small thing to reconstruct—and nearly destroying all of Jötunheim, threatening _my_ life, and the mortals who reside in Midgard…. I just thought that, given the circumstances…"

"I never said he was _welcomed_ back," his mother said sadly. "Odin forced him to return. Loki had no desire of being here, among us. If you could have seen his face… He _despises_ us!"

In the moment where she covered her face with her hands, Thor knew he had wronged. Though he had strived to save his brother in those last minutes before Loki cast himself into the Jötunheim, he found it difficult to forgive the man he had become. His mother, he now saw, not only forgave Loki, but openly mourned his decision to exile himself. She had always been a kind, loving woman. It had to break her heart to be separated from her youngest son like this. Thor set his hand on Frigga's shoulders and squeezed, trying to comfort her.

"Mother," he said, "I am sorry. Please, is there anything I can do for you? I hate seeing you upset."

"There is something…" his mother said, looking up at him, fresh tears staining her cheeks. "There is something you could do for your mother, but I am not sure you will agree…"

"I would do anything to keep a smile on your face," Thor said, brushing a tear from her cheek. His sweet action brought a smile to Frigga's face.

"Would you even agree to find your brother?" she asked, imploring him with large brown eyes. "Would you do your mother this favor and find Loki, talk to him, ask him to come back to Asgard to speak with Odin?"

Thor tensed up and clenched his jaw, finding the word 'no' on the tip of his tongue before he could stop himself. The look in Frigga's eyes was the only thing that kept the negative at bay, and he quickly swallowed before he could say anything disastrous. He could not do the thing she asked of him…and yet he could not refuse his mother. One little request shouldn't be so terrible, should it? Surely he could at least _find_ Loki, and he supposed speaking to him wasn't so much an ordeal. Besides, there was no guarantee Loki would agree to even come back to Asgard—for his sake, Thor hoped he would flat out refuse.

"Very well," he acquiesced, "I will find Loki."

Frigga hugged her son with a small sob, clinging to him out of relief and gratitude. Thor knew what she was thinking: her youngest son, her darling boy, returned to his place among the Asgardians, his transgressions forgiven, if not forgotten, and their family whole once more. He hadn't the heart to tell her that her dream was only that, a dream. He hugged her back, his heart breaking already at the thought of the look that would cross her face when he returned, alone, with the news that Loki chose to remain in exile.

"When was the last you saw Loki?" Thor asked. He would go immediately, before too many others knew of his presence.

"Nigh a year ago, after the wall was finished," his mother said. "He left to stop the mason from completing his task within the allotted time and no one has heard from him since. He has returned to the Jötunheim, I am sure of it. Begin your search there, and I have heart that you will not have to hunt for very long."

_Hunt_, Thor thought to himself, _is a very apt description for what I am about to do_.

And no doubt Loki would act the part of the cornered animal, licking his wounds in some drafty, freezing cold cave. Thor rolled his eyes when his mother wasn't looking, positive that this quest was only going to end in tragedy. Where Loki was concerned, most legends usually did.

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><p><strong>I hope everyone enjoyed this rather short chapter. More will be coming soon, I promise. :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, thanks for all the favs! I was honestly a little overwhelmed, lol. Also, big thanks to those who reviewed. I'm glad you all found something worthwhile in these mad ramblings of mine. Enjoy the second chapter!**

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><p>Jötunheim's icy winds stung his cheeks, like the sky flung thousands of thin, sharp needles out of spite. The ice storm all but blinded him, the deep snow drifts threatened to swallow him whole, and the cold was enough to make his arms go numb. The furs he wore did nothing for him, and he almost seriously considered unpacking the extra furs in his sack (the ones Frigga had <em>insisted <em>he bring for Loki) and piling them on top of the ones he already wore. Frigga had also laden him down with several full course meals and enough meat to feed an army. Loki would be hungry, she reasoned as she tucked a few extra odds and ends into his extra pockets. The sack weighed close to ton. Mjolnir seemed light in comparison. And she wanted him to carry the sack across Jötunheim. The things he did for his mother.

The Bifrost had neatly deposited him in the middle of a glacier field, which was oddly convenient, though Thor knew for a fact that Heimdall couldn't possibly see where Loki was hiding. If Loki did not want to be seen, then Loki would _not_ be seen. Still, the field, with all its caves and hovels, would be the perfect place to begin searching. Thor would find Loki, even if Loki did not wish to be found. He knew the Trickster God better than anyone, and with Mjolnir he would battle all of Jötunheim if it came down to it.

Of course, hearty boasts soon gave way to ragged breathing, frozen fingers, and weary legs. His sore back groaned with every step he took through the deep drifts of snow, until he felt as old as his father. He wished for the comforting weight of his armor, but his mother had convinced him to leave it behind, and instead dress warmly as possible. Thor thought he would rather be freezing and have his armor than be warm and unprotected, but the wind _was _icy and it _did _chill him to the bone. Still, despite his body's protest, he persevered. He lost count of how many ice caves he found and combed through, lost track of how flags he set to mark the places he had already explored. Thrice he accidentally doubled around in a large circle. The ice storm waned and intensified at random, sometimes growing so strong Thor was unable to see, while other times the sky was so clear the stars and planets shone as brightly as the light realms.

During those times where the storm worsened, Thor decided it would be within his best interest to find shelter of his own before he managed to get himself lost in the blizzard. Doing so, he soon discovered, was easier said than done. No sooner had he ventured into a cave and set his sack down than he was slinging it back over his shoulder and running from two of the _largest_ wolves he had ever seen. Geri and Freki almost paled in comparison, and they were the size of war horses! Apparently he had intruded upon their den, and while the pups (already the size of Midgard wolves) seemed friendly enough, their parents were a good deal less amused with the violation of their privacy.

The moment they snarled, Thor retreated with one of the beasts hot on his heels. He smelled hot, putrid breath on the back of his neck and gagged, while paws as large as his head tore at his back. Something caught the edge of his sack, causing Thor to lose his balance and sprawl face first into the snow. The wolf chasing him jumped and began digging, rending the leather apart to reach the thick sides meat within. Thor struggled to find Mjolnir. He couldn't let the beasts steal the food meant for himself and Loki. Slowly, as to not catch the keen eye of the animal on his back, Thor reached for his hammer, strapped to his belt. He felt the cold, leather-wrapped handle, slick and wet from the snow and closed his fingers around it—power surged through him, the power of thunder and lightning.

The power of the gods.

The wolf atop him, a shaggy white bitch, ceased her ravenous search, sensing a change in her prey. She lowered her massive head and sniffed Thor's neck, baring her teeth in warning. A low, rumbling growl erupted from her great chest, followed by a vicious, rabid snarl. Her hackles raised and her tail stiffened out behind her. White fur all over her body bristled as she prepared for an attack. Thor grit his teeth and forced himself to remain still. The wolf was no match for him, but one wrong move could result in a mangle limb. He closed his eyes, felt the power flow through him, felt the power _become_ him.

The she-wolf lunged.

The next split-second was filled with a thunderous cracking noise, and then the stormy sky was split in half by an enormous lightning bolt. It streaked down to the ground, toward Mjolnir, and connected with an intense boom that rocked the very ground. The impact of raw energy caused two things to happen: first, the she-wolf was boldly thrown from Thor's back, as if a giant had picked her up and flung her. Her body struck one of the nearby glaciers and she yelped in pain before falling to the ground, stunned. Second, Thor was lifted off the ground and to his feet with the power that surged through him. He held Mjolnir over his head, taming the lightning that still arced toward him.

"_For Asgard!_" he bellowed.

The defeated wolf whimpered and lay still, laying her ears flat against her head and tucking her tail close to her body. She blinked at him slowly with her large, golden eyes, and Thor stared back, unafraid. Her mate eventually joined her side. The massive black alpha directed a half-hearted snarl at Thor, but proved more concerned with his mate than anything else. He nuzzled her neck and licked her ears and snout, perhaps checking to make sure she was unharmed. Thor watched and, when he determined the wolves no longer presented a threat, chuckled to himself.

"At least you know your priorities," he murmured as he shrugged his sack off to assess the damage. The wolf had torn a large hole in one corner of the bag and had managed to wrestle a hunk of meat halfway out. Slobber and tooth marks also soiled a loaf of bread and one skin of wine. Thor sighed and removed the meat, looking over at the two wolves comforting one another. They were probably only thinking of feeding their pups when they had attacked, and the thought softened Thor's heart a little, as he had a love for all animals. He picked up the ruined meat and, with a flick of his wrist, hurled it to the wolves. The male sent him a questioning look, but the female was already edging toward the hunk.

"Go on," Thor laughed, "you've earned it!"

The she-wolf blinked slowly and snatched the meat up in her jaws, turning away and loping off into the cold to return to her den. Her coat blended in with the snow, and if not for her mouthful Thor might've lost sight of her. The alpha male remained behind and held Thor's gaze. He didn't seem too keen to move at the moment, but yawned widely and raised a hind leg to scratch at an elusive spot right behind his ear. He was a beautiful creature, black and sleek, like oil. Thor appreciated his beauty before returning to repacking his sack. He tied the torn end and hefted it to see if the knot would hold. It did, and he shouldered it once more. When he stood, the alpha was still there, sitting several yards away, staring at him. There was something frightfully intelligent in those blue eyes, and Thor decided to ask the wolf a favor.

"I am looking for someone," he said hesitantly. When the wolf tilted his head to the side, actually appearing to pay attention, Thor, encouraged, continued. "He is my brother, and I need to find him. Have you…seen anyone else—like me—around Jötunheim?"

Thor did not expect the wolf to answer him. The alpha snorted and flicked his ears, though, and stood up. Tail wagging like a happy dog's, he turned and started off in the opposite direction his mate took. Accepting it as a sign, Thor began to follow, clambering over the rocky ground and squirming his way down narrow paths. Shortly thereafter, Thor realized that the reason he had never stood a chance against outrunning the wolves in the first place was because they were far more capable of tackling the treacherous terrain than he. Within minutes the storm worsened and all could he see was the dark, blurry form of his lupine guide. His eyesight was better than average in the dark, but even this was almost too much. It was all he could do to struggle to keep pace. The wolf led him through the field and up a hill toward a ridge which overlooked another glacier field. Thor huffed and hauled himself to the top of the ridge, where the wolf sat, panting and wagging his tail like a huge, friendly dog.

Leading me on a wild goose chase, aye?" Thor asked, wiping wet hair and snow from his face. His companion said nothing, but turned and ran back down the slope, zigging and zagging until he disappeared back into the storm, leaving Thor alone once again. Figured. He sighed and pulled his furs tighter around his shoulders and began to carefully pick his way down the steep, rocky side. Forty minutes later his feet touched even ground and he was surprised to see that the wind did not buffet him about so fiercely, and the snowfall was light. Looking around he saw that he stood in a valley of sorts, surrounded on all sides by glaciers and towering mountains, and shaped like a bowl. From where he stood Thor could see at least two hollow spots among the walls that could have been caves. It was the perfect place for anyone who did not wish to be found to hide in, including a God of Mischief.

Relieved and more than ready to put an end to today's aimless searching, Thor made his way to the nearest hovel, which looked like it might lead back far enough into the mountainside to be adequate shelter for the evening. The cave, when he finally made his way to the entrance, did indeed stretch back, perhaps twenty-five to thirty feet. Thor, with his enhanced eyesight, could only see about ten or twelve feet in before darkness consumed his line of vision. He would need to build a fire with the kindling he had packed as well, and so he threw the sack off and knelt to the floor. Within moments a warm fire crackled and grew, giving light to most of the cave and warming Thor to his bones. Satisfied, the Thunderer lowered himself to the ground with a groan, easing his sore joints into a reclining position. He leaned his head back against the slick surface of the wall, closed his eyes, and sighed.

_Perfect_, he thought to himself.

Mother would owe him for this one. Loki would too, for that matter, if he was ever to be found. No brother, no matter how close or how sorely missed, was worth the trouble; that much he was absolutely certain of. Thor's entire body felt like one giant bruise, and he was sure that if he were to peel his clothes off his skin would resemble one in color. He felt exhausted, more so than he had felt at the end of his last battle. Sleep, something Thor had not had the luxury of fully indulging in for a long time, looked as inviting to him as the arms of Valkyries looked to a dying warrior. A few moments would make little difference in his search if he chose now to rest.

_Just a few moments_, he promised himself as he folded his arms over his stomach and closed his eyes. _A few moments are all I need, and then I shall rise, prepare some of the meat for a meal, and then perhaps even…even…_

—**snore—**

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><p><strong>AN: I imagine Thor snores a bit like a freight train.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm like drowning in the amount of favs I've gotten thus far. You guys are the greatest. Again, thanks to all who reviewed. This chapter is the longest so far, and probably the meatiest. I hope everyone enjoys it!**

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><p>"<em>Thor<em>."

Mjolnir flew into his hand before he had even opened his eyes, he was on his feet before he was completely aware, and swinging with all the might of the gods before he even knew what the threat was; and that was, perhaps, the only reason Loki, God of Mischief, was saved from having his skull crushed off his shoulders.

"_Loki!_" Thor sputtered, loosening his grip on Mjolnir's shaft. But only marginally. "Loki, you slippery…. Do _not_ sneak up on me! How long have you been hiding here?"

"I was here _first_," Loki said, clutching an emerald green cloak around him. He turned away from Thor and faced the opposite wall. "If you seek shelter," he said over his shoulder, "then I suggest you seek it _elsewhere_. You are not welcome here."

Thor bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood to keep from saying the harsh words that immediately sprung to mind. Though the urge was strong, he could not afford to offend Loki and risk him disappearing, or provoke him into a fight. That was not what he had been sent to do. He owed it to his mother to at least _try_ to talk to his brother…as much as he didn't _want_ to do so.

"I did not come to argue with you," he said, sighing heavily. "I am exhausted—too tired to test my wit against your poisonous tongue."

Thor sat back down and set Mjolnir aside, stretching his legs out in front of him. Loki clenched his jaw, but nodded and shuffled his feet. He sat down as well, but far from the fire so that he was half shrouded in darkness. The cloak swallowed him, but certainly wasn't thick enough to provide protection from the cold. Not that Loki had _ever_ been much bothered by the cold, now that Thor thought of it. Loki sat only half turned facing the fire, but kept his gaze on the floor in front of him. From what little of his profile Thor could see, Loki looked pale, more so than usual, and gaunt, as if he hadn't been eating. Thor thought about the food in his sack, enough of it for the both of them for _maybe_ two nights, if they rationed properly. Wordlessly he grabbed the pack to him and began removing a loaf of bread, a hunk of meat, and some dried fruit. He felt Loki's eyes following his every move, but whenever he looked up his brother was facing the wall with hunched shoulders, as if he was trying to hide something.

Thor didn't feel as though Loki warranted any sort of special treatment. After all, he _had_ destroyed half of Jötunheim, almost killed Jane and her friends in Midgard, had almost killed Thor himself, and necessitated the destruction of the Bifrost. His traitorous actions _almost_ resulted in the death of Odin by the hands of the Jötun and the theft of the Casket of Ancient Winters. There was much for him to answer for, and Thor rightly felt that Loki should be forced to return to Asgard and await trial. That wasn't to say he didn't feel the smallest bit of pity for his brother; Thor had more questions than he did hurtful comments. If Loki harbored such bitterness for the way they were raised, or for the way their father ruled, why hadn't he voiced his opinions instead of keeping them bottled up? What could he have possibly gained through deception? _Why_ had Loki tried to kill him? They had been brothers, and, Thor thought, exceptionally close.

It was that closeness he remembered most fondly. His brother had been his other half when they were young, and as they matured Loki proved to be much more a part of him. His intellect was unparalleled, and he was a most brilliant strategist; Thor had often taken in his counsel whenever he needed some advice. He could trust his brother to speak the truth. Now he didn't know if Loki even knew what truth was. During their battle on the bridge, when Loki focused the Bifrost's beam on Jötunheim, Thor thought his brother had tipped over the edge of insanity. There had been a crazed look in his eyes then, but now Loki seemed—he looked _saddened_ by some thought or another, and Thor knew he could not continue to antagonize his brother. No matter what differences lay between them, no matter what had transgressed, Loki was _still_ his brother.

Beginning to feel magnanimous, Thor unrolled one of the furs and laid it off to the side. How Loki had managed to survive for so long on his own, with very little in the way of shelter and food was a mystery—any other man would have succumbed to the perils of Jötunheim a long time ago. His brother certainly wasn't at Hel's gate, but he did look ill. Pale and gaunt as he was, Thor noted with some amusement that Loki's black hair was slicked back against his head, as dark and sleek as ever. However, dark circles enshrined his eyes, bespeaking of a lack of sleep, which was never a good sign. He needed nourishment as well. Most of the meat had been lost, due to the wolves, but of what little was left Thor set about preparing a full meal for Loki and setting aside a smaller portion for himself. He, at least, could still recall the last time he had filled his stomach.

"Why don't you come closer," Thor suggested, "and warm yourself by the fire. I have meat and bread here, and you look as though a good meal would do you some good."

"I'm not hungry," Loki said. "You should leave. You shouldn't have come looking for me."

"That's a fine way to treat your kin, after I spent so long searching for you. I've had to deal with Jötun wolves and blizzards, and I very nearly froze to death out there!"

"I did not ask you to!"

"No, but Mother _did!_"

Loki turned at that, an expression of pain adorning his elegant face. If there was one thing Thor knew the both of them still had in common, it was their unconditional love for their mother.

"Mother sent you?" Loki questioned hesitantly, turning more toward the fire and licking his chapped lips. "And what would she want with _me?_"

"She misses you," Thor shrugged, "would I hazard to guess the motives of her heart. You know as well as I she hasn't seen you since Asgard's wall was rebuilt. She expressed to me a strong desire to see you walk the palace halls once more, as a free man…as a prince once more."

Loki snorted at that. He knew as well as Thor that such a thing was impossible. Odin would not forgive him so easily, and there would be an outcry in Asgard for retribution, not to _mention_ those who resided in Jötunheim. With Laufey dead and half the Frost Giant population only just recovering from the genocidal attack Loki had led on them almost two years ago, there was sure to be unrest between the realms. Thor knew not what Midgard would have to say, if anything at all. The mortals of that realm seemed blissfully ignorant of the comings and goings of the gods, which was probably all for the better.

"Me," Loki mused, "a prince once more…I can only imagine how I would be welcomed back to Asgard."

"Perhaps not as terribly as you imagine," Thor said, turning to build a spit over the fire, "after what I've heard of the hand you played in the rebuilding of Asgard's wall."

"You…heard about that, did you," Loki said in a stilted, offhand sort of way. "And what tales do they spin of Loki now? Do they still laugh and mock my name, or have they finally learned to control the treacherous whisperings of their tongues?"

"No one mocks you. Mother speaks highly of your name. She says you tricked the mason."

"Oh, you heard about that, did you? I suppose you were amused by the tales, but then again, you always were amused by _trash_. Perhaps that's why you felt so at home among the mortals."

Loki's bitter tone lashed out like a whip, his words stinging, full of hatred and venom. Thor set the meat on the spit and stood up, confused and angry, his pride wounded by the wretched ungratefulness of his brother. What had he done to deserve such poor treatment? Odin had once described them as two halves of a whole, and Thor had readily adopted the notion of Loki as his other half, but now he felt a rift in their brotherhood that could not be salved with mere words and kind gestures. It was like a scar that ran too deep for the hope of fading, an abyss that separated them and swallowed up any hope of reconciliation. Had he come here on a fool's errand? Frustrated as he was, the pain of losing his brother proved the stronger emotion, and Thor forced himself to loosen his clenched fists.

"I have heard no tales," he admitted through clenched teeth, "but if there are any that need to be told, I would most rather hear them from _you_, brother."

His effort felt like a futile, unwanted attempt to bridge the gulf that separated them, like a child throwing a length of rope to the other side, to a person who had no intention of catching the other end. It seemed an impossible feat; the space between them was too great. Loki had turned away once more, but Thor could see him struggling to maintain his distance. He was fairly shaking with effort, or maybe he was finally succumbing to the cold. Thor picked up the extra fur and shook it loose of its folds. Slowly, he approached Loki and draped the pelt over those shaking shoulders. The moment the fur made contact Loki jumped up and ripped himself away, turning with all the ferocity of the she-wolf who protected her pups. His green eyes blazed with a brilliant, furious light and he drew his lips back in a near snarl.

"How _dare_ you? Get away, don't _look_ at me!"

His threat came too little and too late. Thor had already seen what he wasn't supposed to—a large bulge that he couldn't mistake for anything else, and yet something he absolutely refused to believe possible. A pale belly, swollen to the point of bursting, extended out from the cloak Loki worked so hard to keep wrapped around him. Thor stared, unabashed and open-mouthed at the phenomenon, even after Loki managed to cover himself once more. His brother's face burned red in the light of the campfire, and his eyes were wide, full of an emotion Thor knew only too well, as he had seen it many a time on the face of his enemy: fear.

"Loki," he croaked, "how…how did this _happen?_ You are…you're—"

"_With child_," Loki spat, cradling his stomach with one arms and pulling both the cloak and his fur higher around his pale throat. "Yes, thank you for noticing, dear _brother_, I _am_ pregnant, yes."

"But _how?_" Thor demanded. "It's not _possible_ for a man to…to…"

Loki raised one sleek, dark eyebrow and chuckled morosely. The sound sent a chill up Thor's spine and he shuddered, unable to look away from Loki's huge stomach. Now he knew why Loki had kept his back turned, and why he had refused to move closer to the fire, or accept any of Thor's food. He couldn't go back to Asgard looking like _that_. What Frigga would say…what _Odin_ would say!

"It is none of your concern," Loki said. "Just leave. I don't need your pity, nor do I wish to suffer more humiliation, and at your _very_ capable hands."

"I would never knowingly do anything to cause you humiliation," Thor said, gathering his shock and forcing his gaze from Loki's pregnant belly to his face. "I'm not here to judge you…please, come sit by the fire, enjoy a meal, and tell me what happened. _Please_."

As he fell silent, he could almost hear Loki's sly mind at work, and he knew the Trickster was calculating the consequences of the choices he had to make. Thor could almost hear what he was thinking: tell the truth and be rid of his brother all the sooner, or be caught in a lie and suffer his continued existence. Loki was many things at all times, sometimes predictable and sometimes a loose cannon. This time, he chose to be predictable. True to form, he sighed and stalked past Thor to settle close by the crackling fire. He lowered himself to the ground carefully, as if in pain, and folded his long legs beneath him. It was then that Thor noticed Loki's distinct lack of clothing.

"Are you not cold?" he asked slowly. "Where is your clothing?"

"Which question would you like me to answer first?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow again. "How about letting me tell my tale so I may be done with it, and I promise your curiosity will be satisfied."

Thor nodded in agreement and knelt back down to check the meat and the bread, which he had set close by the fire to warm. Delicious smells wafted up and filled the cave, and Loki's stomach rumbled, as if in answer.

"Go on, then," Thor said as he stoked the fire.

"I assume Mother told you how I was forced against my will to return to Asgard," Loki drawled, "and I'm also assuming you know why the others thought me suitable enough a candidate to barter with the mason."

"The sun, moon, and Freyja," Thor affirmed.

"Good. Well, you know Odin—he flat out refused and Freyja, of course, told everyone that she wasn't going to become the wife of some nameless stranger, no matter what the price. The mason was about to take his leave when I intervened. I told him that if he could build the wall in _six_ months instead of eighteen, he could have his heart's desire."

"That wasn't very clever," Thor frowned. "What if he had succeeded?"

"He wouldn't have and he knew it. The plan was perfect: the mason would either refuse the challenge and we would lose nothing, or he would accept, fail, and we would have gained a partially constructed wall, also without having to lose. It was _foolproof!_"

"Then what happened?"

Loki's expression turned sour as he diverted his gaze into the flames licking the spit and his eyes, so rich a green they looked like precious jewels, took on a wistful gleam.

"I made the mistake of allowing the mason the use of his stallion, Svaldifari. I had no idea the beast was so powerful; he hauled rocks as if he were half-giant, and by the fifth month the wall was very nearly complete."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing of my own choosing. Father demanded I mend my errors before the end of the month. He couldn't bear the thought of parting with the sun and the moon, or Freyja, and so I did what everyone expected of me. They wanted me to fix the problem I had caused…so I did."

"And so you did…what? What was it that you did?"

A wry smile crossed Loki's lips and he set a hand on his stomach, drumming his fingers against his skin. Thor watched with a rising sensation of unease. He wasn't very sure he wanted to know anymore; he was sure his curiosity was not _that_ strong.

"I took the form of a mare," Loki said, "and I tricked Svaldifari into following me into the woods. I led him deep into the thicket, so deep the mason could neither see us nor hear us, and I kept the stallion distracted all night. _All...night…long. _By the morning of the first day of the seventh month, my work was done and I saw no reason why I should return to Asgard. I fled with dawn's first light to Jötunheim, and I've been here ever since."

At first Thor wanted to ask how he had managed to survive for so long wearing only a cloak, but then it gradually dawned on him that what Loki had so clandestinely suggested to have done to keep the stallion occupied may have directly resulted in his…unusual condition now. His jaw dropped for the second time that evening and his eyes widened in shock as he stared at his brother, who offered only the slightest and slyest of smiles in return.

"You mean you…you and—you _didn't_…"

"I do apologize for my lack of clothing," Loki said smirking and seeming to enjoy Thor's disbelief, "but alas, only _I_ am able to change form at will. Clothing tends to be ruined if I do not remove it first, and I did not bother to take my human form again until recently."

"And why was that?" Thor asked, willing to say _anything_ to keep his traitorous mind from wandering to the visual of a mare and a stallion, alone, in the middle of the woods.

"I thought it'd be easier to bear," Loki said with a snort. Clearly he no longer believed that to be true. He reached out and snagged a piece of the bread loaf from the fireside, tore it into a smaller piece, and greedily devoured it. A look of bliss overtook his expression and he moaned loudly, leaning back a bit. Thor handed the whole loaf over and Loki was hesitant in accepting it, but even Thor could see that he was tired of acting hostile.

"Please eat something," Thor implored. "Your body needs nourishment, more so now than ever. You're eating for two."

"Thank you," Loki said quietly, rolling the loaf over in his hands. "I…I _am_ hungry."

"I could tell," Thor smiled.

He set about cutting pieces of meat off the hunk roasting on the spit and set them aside in a small wooden bowl Mother had also packed, alongside some of the dried fruit. He even found a skin full of goat's milk instead of wine, and had to wonder if she had somehow _known_ about Loki's condition and sent him to find his brother on purpose. That would be like her, he supposed. For as long as he could remember she had always been there, had always been the one to break up most of their fights and make them apologize to one another. She always made sure they got along, whether they wanted to or not. Frigga had been a good mother to them…she still _was_ a good mother, different from Odin in her own wonderful way. Thor knew she wanted to see Loki again very badly, and he promised himself in that instant he would do everything in his power to bring his brother home. The silence between them turned awkward as he turned his thoughts back to what he was doing, and noticed Loki staring expectantly at the bowl he held in his hands.

He smiled and offered it to his brother, who eagerly accepted. Their fingers brushed as the bowl changed hands, and Thor felt a shock. There was a tiny ray of hope for Loki, he realized. The rope he cast had been caught, and though the tether was fragile, it could strengthen over time, if they were careful. They would have to nurture the bond, and each other. Perhaps, someday, it would be strong enough to build a bridge. To go back to the way they once were seemed like an impossibility, considering everything that happened, but even Thor would be lying if he said he didn't often wish it were possible. Yes, he was still angry over Loki's betrayal, and the personal hand he had played In Thor's banishment. He was especially angry about the threat posed to the mortals of Midgard. There had to have been _reasons_ for what Loki had done, though, and he was willing to hear them. He still missed his brother, and missed the time they often shared sparring, joking, laughing, and even just the quiet moments they spent in one another's company. Asgard was just not the same without him.

"So," Thor said, clearing his throat and blinking away the dampness building up in his eyes, "how soon until you…?"

"I don't know," Loki said, after swallowing his delicious mouthful of food. "It will be soon, though. Perhaps in a few days, perhaps a few weeks, but soon enough."

"A few _days?_" Thor repeated, horrified once more. He had expected the answer to be along the lines of a couple more _months_. Days and weeks were too close for comfort. What would happen if Loki decided he wanted to give birth right there in the cave? He was no midwife!

"Brother, _how_ do you plan on giving _birth?_"

"I am a shape shifter," Loki shrugged, as though the thought did not bother him in the slightest. He rolled a juicy piece of meat between his fingers and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly to get the most out of the flavor. "I'm prepared for what is to come, rest assured."

"I don't…understand."

"You seldom do, you great oaf. Fear not, I have the right parts in the right places. Unlike you, _I_ try to plan ahead. I admit, turning back into my human form was not the best idea, but I've since ensured that this ordeal will go as smoothly as possible. I'm not an imbecile, nor am I incapable of using my head when the need is dire and the situation calls for it."

"Well, you _are_ the one with child," Thor pointed out. "But I wonder…do you think it will come out a foal, or were you planning on an actual babe?"

Loki shot him a long-suffering glare, causing him to laugh. It felt good to laugh, even if he was laughing by himself. The brothers finished their meal in silence, which was fine by Thor, because the silence had ceased to be uncomfortable. It _almost_ felt like they were back in the palace, sharing a meal with their friends around the fire pit. What he wouldn't have given to have made that true. He had to wonder whether their friends would accept Loki back, or if they would shun him. They had been injured by the betrayal as well, for they had all been comrades. The viper's venom ran deep, poisoned their relationship with Loki, made it near impossible to so much as speak his name in their presence. That's why they had refused to say anything back at the palace. That's why Sif would not look him in the eye, and why the Warriors Three turned away. The pain was still fresh to them.

None more so than Thor himself.

He waited patiently for Loki to pick the bones clean before throwing the waste out into the snow and covering it over. The winds had died almost completely, and the sky was clear for the first time in hours. He stood outside for some time, searching for the light that burned brightest, the light that identified Asgard, so very far away. Heimdall was watching now, he knew it. The Guardian had sworn to open the Bifrost to return them home, but Thor couldn't call to him unless Loki was by his side and willing to make the journey back to Asgard. With Odin still gone, though, he might have a better chance of convincing his brother to return before it was too late.

_Before he gives birth_, he added mentally.

He returned to the cave and began to repack the bag in order to make it easier to carry, and also to discover what other items his mother had deemed as a necessity. He found the collapsible shield Sif had gifted him years ago, at his coming of age celebration, and some soft towels he could have used an hour ago to dry himself off. He also found his cape, folded up and neatly tucked on top of a spare set of clothes for Loki—a soft green shirt with long sleeves, brown pants, socks, and even a pair of soft leather boots. Thor shook his head, half exasperated with his mother's depth of perception and half amused at all her coddling. The clothes wouldn't fit Loki with how bog he was, but they could be used for…. No, he refused to think that there may be an 'after'. The babe would just have to hold tight and wait until they were safely back in Asgard before making an appearance.

"Mother will at least be pleased to know you completely devoured all the food she packed for us to share," Thor said as he began taking stock of their provisions.

"How is she?" Loki asked, a sick sort of grimace on his face. His hand was low on his stomach, and he was stroking his belly absently.

"Well enough," Thor replied. "Her heart still breaks for you. She hasn't been the same ever since you left. She tried to plead with Father to bring you back, but he said there was nothing he could do about it, and that he would not force one of his sons to remain where they did not wish… I know it is hard to believe, but he misses you too. We all do."

Loki smiled bitterly and got up to sit next to Thor. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh and crossed his ankles, and folded his hands right across his stomach. His long, lean, pale legs poked out from the fur he kept loosely twisted about his shoulders, but he didn't seem too bothered by the cold air drifting in. The fire still burned brightly enough, but Thor added a bit more kindle to be on the safe side, thankfully they had plenty left, enough for two more fires, at least. He hoped not to be in Jötunheim for that much longer, though.

"Mother always did have a soft spot for me," Loki murmured. "I suppose she sent you to try and convince me to return?"

"Aye," Thor said, poking at the fire with a long stick he had found toward the back of the cave, a remnant from another fire a long time ago, "she wants you to talk to Father, try to work out your differences. She did not tell me what happened between you while I was banished, but I get the distinct impression it wasn't pleasant."

"I can't go back," Loki said, ignoring Thor's subtle hint for more information. "Father will never forgive me…I do not _want_ his forgiveness. I don't want anything to do with Asgard ever again."

"How can you say that?" Thor asked. "That is your rightly _home_, Loki. You belong there."

"Do I?" he asked, turning to grace Thor with a belittling look. "Think, _brother_, have I _ever_ really and truly belonged? I am an outcast among those who would call me friend to my face. Behind my back they do nothing but spread rumors…"

"That is not true," Thor said, frowning. He admitted that Loki did, at times, act a little strangely; he preferred to keep to himself, valued his privacy, and could often be found poring over books. He held an aversion to the sparring rooms and practiced his own combat techniques in one of the lesser used corridors of the palace. He was the only man Thor knew who could sit down and read an entire book in one day, and he had a way with words that most men envied. He was charming and suave, sophisticated in a way Thor had never quite been able to achieve, and quiet. But that had never made him an outsider in Thor's eyes. If anything, it only endeared him further, for there was no one else in all of Asgard who was quite like Loki.

"I have never once thought of you as an outsider," Thor said. "True, you may look a little…different, yes, but you are my _brother_. I care not for the wagging tongues of the jealous, and I don't care that you've never been the same as me. How boring that would have been, and how horrifying to our poor mother! We are a _family_, Loki, and our friends are noble and true. I have spent time with them while you were absent, and I can assure you that never once did they bring your name up except in praise or question. No false rumors were established, no mockery was made of your good name, and they would have never let anyone else get away with such foolishness. You underestimate them."

"I find it amazing that you can bring yourself to say these things, even after all I've done to you," Loki said, and his words sounded more like a challenge than a comment. Thor narrowed his eyes and drew his lips into a thin line. "It must be hard, forcing yourself to lie like this. You know your entire face gives you away—I can read you like a _book. _You never were much of an actor."

"I don't pretend to have forgiven you," Thor said, choosing his words very, very carefully. "There are many things I still do not understand…but I am more than willing to—to listen if you should wish to indulge my questioning."

"Ohhh," Loki said, tapping a finger to the side of his nose, "that was almost noble of you. I appreciate the effort you put into these charming little mendacities, but you need not try and deceive _me_. I know you too well to believe you would ever forgive me."

"You cannot possibly know that."

"Can't I? Alright then, _would_ you forgive me?"

"I would…provided you were genuinely sorry for the wrongs you committed and put forth a conscious effort to make amends. However, I can see that you are _not_ sorry and that you plan on doing absolutely _nothing_; therefore, I am unable to forgive you."

"Yes, show me your true colors," Loki spat, edging away from him once more. "You always were more brawns than brains. It's a miracle you can even reason with yourself. I should have destroyed the Bifrost after you were banished to Midgard. You could have stayed there with all your precious little mortals and left me to my plans. You just _had_ to sacrifice yourself, didn't you? You just _had_ to play the hero, just like always!"

"_Shut up_," Thor hissed, clenching his fists.

In his absence, he had almost forgotten how good Loki was at antagonizing him. Manipulation had always been one of his talents, and Thor realized how skilled a puppet master his brother truly was; he had always been caving to Loki's whims, following his advice, and subconsciously allowing his offhand comments to affect his own decision making. Loki had _always_ played him, he realized, from the very beginning. Loki had been the one to prompt him into acting out against the Frost Giants, and it had been Loki who told him that their father had died. Loki was the true actor, and he had tricked all of them into believing his motives to be pure. The thought _should_ have enraged him, but instead, Thor felt only an overwhelming sensation of peace flow through him. He felt unburdened…humbled, even. It was an emotion he could not have explained using words.

"I pity you," he said quietly, looking sideways at his brother.

"_What?_" Loki asked, his eyes glowing.

"I pity any man who feels the need to deceive and manipulate his way through life in order to gain acceptance. You never needed to _earn_ our love. We _already_ accepted you. How could you not see that?"

Loki stopped in his tracks and his eyes faded back to their normal color. For a moment, he looked confused; his forehead wrinkled and he opened his mouth a little, as if to say something that was burning on the tip of his tongue. He mastered control over himself, though, before any damaging words could be said and bowed his head. Thor waited impatiently for his brother to answer him. This was only one of the many questions he had. How could Loki have found unhappiness when his entire childhood had been filled with nothing but the warmth and affection of their family and friends?

"You were so unaware," he eventually said, in a whisper so soft Thor was forced to lean in. "You, who never wanted for anything, _you_, the golden, firstborn son of Odin, King of the Gods, Ruler of Asgard. You _never_ had anything to worry about. Your destiny was handed to you on a silver platter, while I had to _fight_ to prove myself worthy of _my_ title!"

Loki looked up, tears gleaming in his eyes, tears of anger and hurt, of a pain so deep Thor found himself struggling to breathe. The intensity in those eyes was overwhelming and he fought to keep from looking away. He wanted to hear what his brother had to say.

"We grew up together," he continued, "and yes, I loved you. How could I have not? _Everyone_ loved you! Everyone wanted to _be_ you! Do you have any idea how hard it was, trying to live in _your_ shadow while paving my own destiny? Do you have _any idea _what that did to me? I _worshipped_ you!"

"Brother—" Thor tried to cut in, but Loki wasn't one to be distracted once he started in on one of his ramblings.

"I always tried my best to win Father's approval," he continued to spit, talking more and more to himself as his words grew more toxic and more personal. "I always _tried_, but of course, he was too blindsided by _your_ perfection to ever notice _me_. I spent _my_ life set in a corner while _you_ enjoyed being in the spotlight. You never even cared enough to notice how miserable I was…"

"I never thought you acted particularly miserable," Thor hurried to say. "I remember you being quiet and preferring to keep to yourself, but never shunned. You had your own friends, did you not? Balder was particularly fond of you."

"He was a dull, prattling _fool_ who couldn't tell his sword from his hand," Loki sneered. "You're acting just as Father did, seeing only what you _choose_ and refusing to see the truth. You'll make a _great_ king someday; you'll follow directly in his footsteps, and maybe you'll banish me as well. I suppose it's only what I _deserve_."

Though the sentiment may have been true two years ago, when the wound of Loki's betrayal was fresh and raw, and when Thor had still harbored hatred for what his brother had done, he felt as though he had changed enough as a man to understand that sometimes…_sometimes_ it was necessary to give people—especially family—a second chance, not for them to prove or redeem themselves, but for them to realize that they weren't as hated as they thought. Loki had acted selfishly, and he caused much pain and suffering on that day, but Thor was beginning to understand that perhaps most, if not all of his actions were fueled by some form of pain as well. Loki was hurting, he realized, and to treat him harshly now would only be reinforcing everything he believed to be true.

"I don't pretend to know the All-Father's thoughts," Thor said, calming himself so that his tone did not convey his troubled thoughts and the anger still warring in his heart, "but I am not yet king. I would not banish you, and neither would he."

"You may not be _king_," Loki countered, "but you _are_ Odinson, and there is just as much of you in him as there is him in _you_. You _are_ our father's son. The apple, dear brother, does not fall far from the tree."

Thor wanted to refute the claim, but he could not deny the irrefutable truth that he and his father were cut from the same cloth; maybe not to the extreme extent Loki suggested, but close enough to where no one could ever mistake the two of them for being anything other than father and son. Thor swallowed his pride and forced himself to look into Loki's eyes. His brother looked tired and pained, and the tears that had risen still shimmered brightly. He was shifting again, drawing closer once more as he tried to make himself more comfortable on the cold, hard, icy ground.

"I still think you are wrong about one thing," Thor said, wanting the last say. "Father loves you the same as Mother does…the same as I. I think you should return to Asgard and at least _try_ to reconcile yourself."

"Looking like this?" Loki asked, patting his stomach. "Yes, I can see myself riding up to the wall of Asgard, the Shining Light of the Nine Worlds, and ordering them to raise the gates for the Great Loki Odinson, returned from his exile and ready to start life anew. I would be the laughing stock of Asgard and all the Realms if I were to undertake such a foolish endeavor. If Father didn't have a good enough reason _before_ to cast me out of the kingdom, he certainly would _now_."

"No one has to know," Thor said.

"No one had _better_ know about this," Loki growled, snapping his fierce gaze to Thor's face. "Swear to me you'll not breathe a word of this to anyone."

Thor opened his mouth to agree, but found himself unable. He had sworn their mother he would at least bring news of Loki, and what good was his word if he broke it to his own _mother?_ Apparently, Loki took his hesitation for refusal and immediately leaned forward on his hands and knees, swaying so close to the fire that the light from the flickering flames cast dark shadows in the hollows of his cheeks and his eyes, giving him a haunted appearance. His tone took on a new, desperate plea, one Thor had heard once before, almost two years ago.

"Promise me you won't tell," Loki said, imploring him with those huge green eyes of his. His unshed tears threatened to spill over, and Thor felt himself start to give in. "_Swear_ you will tell _no one_ of what you've seen or heard!"

"I doubt anyone would believe me," Thor chuckled, but in the next moment Loki had him by the throat and dragged him forward. Thor let it happen, too shocked to retaliate. He had seen pregnant women before, and he remembered how slowly they moved, almost as if they were waddling, like ducks. His mistake was believing that Loki would be just as slow to move. He grabbed hold of Loki's wrist, and his other fan gripped his shoulder as he tried to push his brother away, but it was no use.

"Loki, _no!_" he managed to choke.

"You _have_ to promise me!" Loki cried. His tears began to fall down his cheeks and collected at his pointed chin; they fell, and Thor felt a sudden wetness on his hand. "Do not make me _beg_," Loki whispered. His voice wavered, but his grip was strong. Thor saw black spots in his vision, but he managed to nod.

"I would—_never_ tell," he gasped. "Loki…you have my—my _word!_"

"_Swear it again!_" Loki yelled, giving Thor a good throttle.

Thor groaned and managed to force his hand from around his throat. Pushing Loki back, he gasped in lungfuls of air, coughing and sputtering. Loki held onto him still, gripping his shoulders in a fearsome, frightened grip.

"You think…I would betray you?" Thor asked angrily, shooting his brother a dark look. "You think I would parade your shame through Asgard for all to see and mock? That I would run off and tell Father of what you've done, and try to turn our own family and friends against you? You say you know me, but if you believe I would ever do such a thing, then you scarcely know me _at all_."

Loki released Thor and closed his eyes as a few more tears escaped his dark lashes and trickled down his cheeks. He gave something close to a dry sob and raised his long-fingered hands to his face, hiding himself from his brother's gaze. The furs around his shoulders slipped to his waist and Thor could see he was shaking once more, this time with sorrow. He felt a painful thudding in his chest that he could only identify as his heart, and it felt as though it had been stabbed through. Gingerly he reached for his brother, wanting to comfort him, but not knowing how.

"I'm s-sorry," Loki whispered from between his fingers as he continued to shudder. "For-forgive me… You always were the perfect son. You, who are so noble and kind. You _deserve_ to be king, for—for you are a far better man than I."

"Cease your nonsense," Thor admonished. He pulled Loki by his side and set an arm around his shoulders, waiting for him to stop crying. He had never seen his brother filled with so much emotion before. It pained him and excited him all at once. If Loki was truly remorseful, things would be very different for the two of them. He pulled the furs over their legs and leaned over to tuck them around Loki's stomach, the way he had used to when they were younger and too tired to make it into their separate beds.

"Why do you _do_ this?" Loki suddenly wailed, looking up at Thor. His expression was an exquisite blend of agony and confusion, and his cheeks were wet and shiny. His red rimmed eyes constantly brewed fresh tears and his brow was furrowed so deeply Thor feared there would be an old man's wrinkles come morning.

"Because there is no such thing as a better man between brothers," he said. "You are my family, Loki, and I am yours. There will come some day in the distant future when all we might have is each other. I love you more than any of our friends, and I once trusted you with my life. I protected you and helped care for you when we were young, and you returned the favor often. We are men now…things _have_ changed, but I have faith and hope that we might put aside our differences and be as one whole again. You remember the words Father used to tell us whenever we argued? 'It takes two brothers to make _one_ man'."

Loki stared, incredulous, with his mouth slightly opened, paused in the midst of preparing a response. He shook his head and unwound his arms from himself to reach for his brother. Letting out a real sob, he pressed his forehead to Thor's shoulder while shedding hot tears.

"I—I am glad," he cried, "that if there can only be…_one man_ between us, that half of that man is _you_."

Thor answered not with words, because there were none he knew that were strong enough to convey the emotion he felt in that moment. For the first time that evening, he pulled Loki into a strong-armed embrace. He felt Loki's arms around him and a warm breath on his neck, followed by the dampness of tears. In that moment, when Loki responded, the Thor felt the space between them filled, and the thin, fragile rope became a bridge once more, sturdy and strong. It was not permanent, he knew, but for now it was enough, and it was forged in the fires that had tested their brotherhood and friendship throughout the years; it emerged from the flames stronger than before, and though Thor did not expect it to remain the same, so soon after yet another argument in a long line of arguments stemming from Loki's betrayal, he had a hope that they too would emerge from their trials stronger as well.

Thor pressed a hand to the back of Loki's head and felt his stomach pressing against his hip, heavy and heaving like it had a life all its own…which, in a sense, it did. Thor wrestled Loki from the niche he had taken up against his neck and pressed their foreheads together, reestablishing a bond that had been broken years ago. Loki did not fight the gesture, but placed his hands on either side of Thor's head as he finally, _finally_ began to calm down.

"Forgive me," Thor said thickly. "Forgive me for everything. I should have seen the arrogant fool I was becoming, and I should have been the one to put a stop to it. I should have seen the way I treated those around me. You were the only one…you were the only one who saw what I had turned into, and only you took action."

"Someone had to," Loki said, a small grin on his lips. He slowly retracted his arms from around Thor's neck and wrapped them back around his own stomach. Thor kept his arm around his brother's shoulders, though, and permitted him to lean against his side.

"Can you forgive my foolish arrogance?" he asked after a moment.

"I want to," Loki said, looking down at his fingers, "you have to understand that I _want_ to believe you, because you are my brother no matter…no matter what you might hear."

"What do you mean?"

"Just know this: you were not the only one I have grievance against. The problem is bigger than you can conceive."

"I—I don't understand… Why can't you forgive me? Is it because I still hold you accountable for the actions you took against me on Midgard? Of the harm you almost caused the mortals?"

"Don't worry about it," Loki said, quickly passing a hand over his brother's heart.

If Thor noticed the gesture, he said nothing, and in doing so missed the sly spell Loki had cast over him, to make him forget, for a little while longer, his own anger. It worked and Thor smiled lazily, taking Loki's advice and deciding not to worry about it. He slouched a little and pulled the furs closer around him, complacent now that he had his brother in his good graces again, and vice versa. Loki pressed his hand to Thor's and squeezed tightly, as if to reassure him that it was all in a bit of fun, and that nothing serious was really going on. He even smiled that charmingly happy and carefree smile of his.

"Just know," he said mysteriously, "that when the time comes to talk to Father, and _if_ he and I manage to come to some sort of reconciliation, you will be the _first_ person to know."

"Father is the problem?"

"Father _especially_."

Thor grimaced, but accepted the fact that Loki had other issues he had to deal with, and on his own. He would wait, and stand by his brother's side in the meantime. Someone needed to. Someone would also have to mediate. He knew firsthand how stubborn the old man _could_ be when he set his mind to it, and he also knew how sneaky his brother could be, and while Loki was fueled by rage there was much that could go wrong. Someone would have to be there to make sure they didn't tear one another apart, and Thor knew their mother would not be able to be the voice of reason without eventually adding her own thoughts and opinions. He also knew he was not the best candidate either, but he felt that he had a better chance than most and quelling his brother's anger…_maybe_. For now, he just wanted to sleep. Loki seemed quite content where he was, but he squirmed around entirely too much. The ground wasn't even all _that_ hard. Finally, Thor grew tired of his writhing about.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"The baby is kicking," Loki sighed. "It just hurts when he kicks my ribs. My back hurts a little as well. I think I need to lie down and…try and get some rest."

"The baby is _kicking_," Thor repeated thoughtfully. He hadn't really thought about the baby until now, at least, not in _that_ type of way. He had actually worked very hard on _not_ thinking about his brother's pregnancy in any way, shape, or form. It was still too strange for him to admit to be real, and yet here was irrefutable proof. The baby was kicking…

"Would you like to feel?" Loki asked, a smile lighting up his face.

Thor looked at his brother in surprise. He hadn't been expecting such an offer, nor had he asked for one. Still, strange as the offer was, Thor didn't want to turn it down. He was curious, and he wanted to show his brother that he was not afraid or judgmental of his condition. He nodded and allowed Loki to take his hand and guide it toward his stomach. His skin was cool to the touch, and smooth. Thor indulged a very brief and ancient fantasy of stroking his brother's skin before settling his palm against the lower half of Loki's stomach, where the baby had apparently been kicking. He waited and waited, and waited some more before shrugging his shoulders.

"He must not like me very much," he tried to joke, but Loki just continued to smile.

"Have some patience," he suggested. "It'll come."

As if the babe inside had been waiting for an introduction, it kicked the inside of Loki's belly three times, announcing its presence and causing Thor to jump in surprise. He tried to jerk his hand back, but Loki grabbed hold and kept it pressed to his stomach, grinning widely. Another kick soon accompanied the first bout, and Thor forced his breathing to remain even. It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest sensations he had ever experienced, but by far not the most unpleasant. Actually, it was…wondrous. Thor had never known it possible to feel an unborn child in the womb, and this opportunity he was presented with made him realize how precious such life really was. He could feel his nephew or niece (his _kin_, he realized) as if it were already in his arms. The look on his face must have expressed as much, for Loki began to chuckle.

"You think it's so amazing," he said, "trying carrying it in _your_ body for ten months. The miracle wears out after the first hundred kicks."

"It's going to be strong," Thor predicted, smoothing his hand over Loki's stomach in hopes of feeling more, "and energetic. Do you yet know what it's going to be?"

"A son," Loki replied with a firm nod, as if there were no room for second guesses.

"Oh? And what if it's a girl?"

"Well…it won't be."

The babe kicked again and Loki smiled. It was a beautiful, strange smile accentuating his handsome face. Thor had seen that look before as well.

"You want this babe," he said, stating what he thought to be an obvious truth. Loki looked up and for a moment Thor thought he might deny the sentiment, but then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth to release a sad, longing sigh.

"It is not possible for me to keep the child," he said, evading Thor's rather insightful statement. "Too many questions will be asked and I might not be able to fabricate an answer for each and every one of them."

"What's this?" Thor asked, trying to lighten the mood suddenly dampened by his rather thoughtless comment. "Silver-tongued Loki, admitting defeat to a battle of cunning and wits not yet begun? You underestimate yourself, brother. It won't be as bad as all that."

"You overestimate the ability of the Asgardians to comprehend that love is still love, no matter what form it takes. So I conceived while in the form of a mare. Am I to simply forget the child that grows within me? Do you have _any idea_ what it's like, feeling your body change, day by day and week by week, to watch yourself expand like some sort of growth? Do you even have a clue how I've _felt_, all this time, carrying this child alone, by myself, scared to death and wondering what I'm going to do once it's born? Do you know what I feel every time the babe kicks me?"

"No," Thor admitted, feeling soundly thrashed. "I'm sorry, I was just…trying to be helpful. I thought I could cheer you."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed one side of his face.

"I know," he said after a moment, "I know, forgive me, it's just…lately I find it is all too easy too easy to just lose control of myself."

"So I've noticed," Thor murmured, rubbing the back of his neck and remembering how Loki's moods seemed to change as swiftly as the seasons. If this was the way _women_ acted while with child, he was quite sure he never wanted to deal with another one of them for as long as he lived.

"I don't know why I said those things," Loki groaned, kneading his eyes in frustration, "I just grew angry thinking about what the people might say if they knew."

"No one has to know," Thor said. "We'll come up with some excuse that will be pleasing to the ears of others. I promise, your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," Loki said, and he sounded so grateful Thor wanted to pull him into another hug. He resisted, though, and instead stretched his arms behind his head.

"I believe the babe is done abusing your insides for tonight," he yawned.

"I _hope_ he's finished," Loki said, yawning in agreement. "I am exhausted, and my back is beginning to feel more and more like a Frost Giant is pinching my spine."

"Sleep then, little brother, and I will keep you safe."

"Mm, but who will keep _you_ safe?"

Loki wrapped himself up in one of the furs and leaned against Thor's side, his head nestled neatly against his brawny shoulder. Thor waited until he heard soft snores emanating from his brother before allowing his own eyes to fall shut, and as he slept, through some conscious action or his subconscious urging him on, his arm crept around Loki's belly, as if promising to protect the life within.

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><p><strong>I know, I'm sappy.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Ok, so, I love every single one of you guys. You're all the best readers and deserve all my loves forever. So, to show you all how much I love you, I present you with this. WARNING! Messy birth things. I tried to be vague without being boorish, I tried to be realistic without getting into the gross exacts, and I tried to be funny without being too goofy. If you don't like birth and icky stuff, I suggest re-evaluating yourself before continuing. For those who knew where this was headed to begin with, I salute you.**

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><p>"<em>Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!<em>"

Loki's scream of pain jolted Thor right from the very depths of slumber; he threw back the furs he had wrapped himself in and sat up, wildly looking about for the source of danger. The fire had all but died down and there was very little natural light to go by. Still, with his superior eyesight, he was able to pick his brother out from among the rocky cavern wall. Loki sat several feet away from him, hands clenched in his own pelts and his face contorted in pain. He moaned feebly and shifted his legs, rocking back and forth against whatever ailed him. Seeing as how his brother wasn't being attacked as he had originally thought, Thor rubbed his eyes and yawned leisurely before moving on his hands and knees to his brother's side.

"What is it?" he asked, still not completely awake.

"It…it's coming," Loki huffed, scrunching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. "It's _coming_!"

"What's coming?" Thor questioned stupidly, not comprehending.

"You _imbecile_," Loki snapped, gesturing to his burgeoning stomach, "_it's coming!_"

Thor's heart stopped beating and crawled nigh unto his throat before he swallowed it back down to its rightful place within his chest. Oh. _Oh_. Ohhh, he meant _that_ was coming.

"It's coming _now_?" he asked. "Truly? Are you sure it is not just a-a-a false alarm?"

Loki grabbed hold of Thor's shirt and dragged him forward so that their noses almost touched. Thor could see the excruciating pain in Loki's eyes, and the sweat that beaded on his forehead; a thought occurred to him then, that he should not have questioned his brother when it was very clearly obvious that he was, indeed, preparing to give birth.

"It's coming," Loki growled, "_right now!_"

"Alright, alright," Thor said, scrambling to pull back, "just…tell me what to do."

Loki groaned and rolled his head back against the wall, arching his back as pain lanced through him.

"_I. Don't. KNOW!_" he howled. "Just _do_ something!"

In all his years spent training, and all the battles he had fought, never before had Thor been forced to face such a fearsome opponent. There was no one else around them, and of course the task of delivering the baby safely _would_ fall on his shoulders. What his brother asked of him was near impossible. He knew nothing about childbirth, or child-rearing, or anything about children period. He had _been_ a child once, true, but that had been a very long time ago! He felt more at ease with a weapon in his hands than a small child; how was he supposed to be of any assistance? With his inexperience he could prove to be more of a hindrance than anything. His ignorance could possibly cause harm to Loki _and_ the babe.

The best course of action, he decided, would be to return to Asgard and convince one of the midwives to come with him to Jötunheim to deliver Loki's baby. He was positive he would be able to find at least _one_ brave maid to accompany him, and perhaps one who wouldn't be so taken aback by the fact that it was _Loki, God of Mischief_ in labor that she would forget her head and faint at the strange sight. Yes, he was _sure_ everything would turn out for the better if only he could return to Asgard. There was simply no other solution. It was the best chance, the _only_ chance to ensure that Loki's child would be safe and well taken care of.

"I must return to Asgard," Thor said, getting to his feet. "I will find a midwife and bring her back. She can help you far better than I—"

"No!" Loki cried, struggling to his knees. "No, you _can't_ leave me here! Not now!"

"I will be gone but a mere few moments," Thor insisted, snatching his pelt up and throwing it over his shoulders. "I promise you, I will return, and soon."

"You can't leave me alone," Loki repeated stubbornly as he cradled the underside of his stomach.

Thor watched and saw a liquid seeping down his brother's thighs, something he assumed had to do with the birth. He _hoped_ it had something to do with the birth, because the alternate thoughts he was having were most unpleasant. The sight of Loki's changed sex also strengthened his resolve, and he called Mjolnir to his hand.

"A midwife will be a far more able caregiver than a brother," he said.

"I do not _want_ a midwife!" Loki said desperately. "I _want_ my brot—_aaaahhhhhhh!_" He sat back down heavily, both hands planted on the ground and one leg folded beneath him. "_Brother_, _please_, I _beg_ of you!"

"Only a moment," Thor promised and turned to leave, but a sharp tug on his pants leg stopped him in his tracks.

He turned back around, ready to rebuke his brother for continuously delaying his departure, but he found himself unable to. Loki clutched at his trouser and the edge of the pelt, his head lowered. Thor could hear his labored breathing coming out in wheezes, as if it pained him to take even the smallest of breaths.

"I can't do this," Loki warbled, "I can't do this with—without you…. Thor, _please_, stay with me. Don't leave me _alone_…"

Loki looked up, wincing and tensing as another wave of pain struck. He was panting, heaving, and shivering. The air was cold, his covers had fallen away, and the fire was barely clinging to life. It was entirely possible, Thor admitted, that Loki might perish if he were to abandon him. It was also possible that any midwife he found would refuse to come to Jötunheim…worse yet, it was altogether _too_ possible that Odin should hear of Thor's impromptu arrival and demand to know where he had been. Odin was not blind, nor was he a fool, and Frigga would not keep secrets from her beloved husband. He would be forced to break his promise to Loki, if such a thing were to happen.

Thor felt himself being pulled in two very different directions. Part of him wanted only to help Loki by returning to Asgard. He only had his brother's best interests at heart, even if Loki couldn't see that at the moment. He was sure he'd want the same done for him if he was ever in the unfortunate situation of having to give birth (an unlikely predicament, but one should never tempt fate). The other part of him wanted nothing more than to remain by his brother's side, to prove himself not the arrogant and brutal man Loki once saw him as, but a changed man. He wanted to be there for Loki, help him through his time of need; he wanted to become the beloved brother once more.

_What kind of brother am I if I just walk away?_ he thought to himself.

In the end, Loki's own tears proved more persuasive than his silver tongue. Thor's resolve broke and he knelt down beside Loki, taking him by the arms.

"I'm here," he promised, "I'm here, I won't leave. I'll help, but—"

Loki groaned loudly and cursed.

"—I don't know what to do."

"N-need wat—water. Warm…water."

Thor tore his furs off and laid them to the side. He dove into the sack and removed the two fluffy towels his mother had somehow managed to stuff in with all the other items, and he spread one of them down on the ground. Loki accepted his brawny hand and slowly moved to sit on the towel, and common sense alerted Thor that he would most likely need some clean clothes to wrap the babe in after the birth. All he had left was his cape and the other towel, and so he would have to make due with those. He also made sure to remove the clean clothes for Loki and set them aside where they wouldn't be soiled. As for the warm water, Thor quickly threw some more kindle onto the fire and made sure the makeshift spit was still holding up. He dug his collapsible shield from his bag and expanded it to its full size. Just outside the cave, he packed mounds of snow into the dish the shield made and carried it back inside. He would melt the snow over the fire, adding to it every now and then to make sure it did not grow too hot.

By the time Thor rejoined his brother's side, Loki was breathing fast and rocking back and forth again.

"It hurts," he moaned, "it hurts so much, I don't see how women put _up_ with this!"

"Maybe this will teach you to run around with stallions next time," Thor said. He received a lame punch to his arm for his trouble, and Loki groaned again, his lashes already wet with tears once more.

"Try to relax," Thor suggested as he settled himself in front of Loki's knees with a scowl.

He knew where babies entered the world from; that much was common knowledge. He had once been permitted to hold one of Volstagg's newborn children, and the most he could remember of the tiny, wrinkled, red, and squalling creature was that it was extremely fragile, and required a delicate touch. Their heads needed support, and Thor could have sworn that babies were birthed headfirst to ensure they were properly held from the start. Thanks to his experience with his friend's children, he knew how to hold a baby, though he was still extremely uncomfortable doing so. A midwife would have been a most welcome addition to their little cave. Thor knew not where to begin. The most he had heard tell was how to nurse an infant, but that, he supposed, would come later.

Slowly, as if not knowing what to expect, he set a hand on each of Loki's knees and parted his legs with all the care in the world, in order to assess exactly what it was he was dealing with. What greeted him was exactly what his brother had insinuated, and even though he had half-expected it, the sight did little to calm to his nerves.

"Um," he said, unsure of how to react.

Loki made a low keening noise and clenched his fists in his sleek black hair, mussing it up.

"Get it _out_!" he howled. "I want it _out_ of me!"

"I think it will need your assistance for that," Thor said. He moved closer and accepted it when Loki set his feet against his thighs. His brother reached for him and Thor took his hand, squeezing in a tight, reassuring grip. "I think you will have to push."

"I'm—I'm _trying!_" Loki gasped, crushing Thor's fingers.

Still, he grit his teeth and did as was suggested. Thor watched beads of sweat roll down Loki's temple despite the cold. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin; his stomach was slick, like the surface of a frog egg. Thor thought it would pop if he breathed too hard, and he was afraid to even so much as brush against his brother.

"_Aaarrrggghhh!_" Loki groaned again, sobbing aloud with his efforts.

"Come on," Thor coached, keeping his gaze locked on his brother's face, "you can do thi—"

"Oh, shut _up!_" Loki spat venomously, taking Thor by surprise.

Loki cursed again and squeezed his brother's hand as he tried to push, and even though it felt like his fingers were being smashed through one another, Thor did not pull away. His heart pounded against his ribcage and blood thundered in his ears. How long was this supposed to last? They had only just begun and already he was beginning to wish it were over. Loki looked as though he was planning on breaking down at any moment, and Thor was unsure how much longer his own patience could hold out. The hand of his not held in a vice-like grip was shaking, and he was certain the blood had all but drained from his face. There was a reason, he supposed, why women were appointed the burden of childbirth, and not men.

"You have to push _harder_," Thor urged.

Loki took aim and spit at him, though he missed his mark by several inches.

"Do you want the babe out or not?"

Loki aimed a kick at Thor's ribs and struck home with surprising ferocity.

"Do that again and I will tie you _down_."

"You…_bastard_ son of a—of a _half_ troll!"

Thor smirked at the abuse, unwarranted as it was, and continued to wait, as patiently as he could, for the baby to arrive. He left Loki's side several times to add snow to the shield to keep the water from coming to a boil. He shook his cape free of its folds and set it by the fire to warm, and laid out the spare towel by his knees. Ten minutes passed within that time, the longest ten minutes Thor had ever sat through. He was certain that time was slowing down specifically to torment his already agitated mind. He was sure Loki felt the same way; his brother was growing tired, even though the pain was keeping him falling into a complete stupor. He groaned as he gave another push, but this time the attempt resulted in something happening—Thor finally saw the crown of a tiny head begin to emerge from Loki's borrowed sex.

"I see it!" he crowed, sitting to attention. "Loki, I can see the babe's head! You have to push again!"

"Can't," Loki respired, "I can't…do this any—anymore."

"Yes you _can_," Thor said, shaking his hand free from Loki's grip and pushing his knees further apart. "You're nearly _there_, you're almost finished! Don't you want to hold your son?"

Loki's eyes remained firmly shut and he pressed a hand to his forehead and cheeks, wiping away sweat.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Then _push_. For Asgard!"

Green eyes opened slowly and Loki fixed Thor with a withering gaze straight from the depths of Hel itself. Thor tried to smile, but the gesture was lost on his ill-tempered brother.

"I will pretend you did not just say that," Loki groaned, raising himself up on his elbows. He ducked his head and began pushing with all his might. Inch by inch the babe's head came into view and Thor reached forth and took hold.

"Push!"

Loki took a deep breath and held it, curling his toes against Thor's thighs; the baby's head slipped free and Thor gently cupped the tiny thing, helping until the entire tiny body squirmed in his arms. Loki wailed, the baby wailed, and Thor pumped his fist into the air in triumph.

"_Yes!_" he shouted. "_Yes_, you _did it!_"

Loki collapsed onto his back and raised his hand in a tired, dismissive wave.

"Hooray for me," he croaked.

"It's a boy," Thor laughed, "a _son!_"

"I want to hold him," Loki groaned, stretching his pale arms out.

Thor picked up the towel he had set aside earlier and swaddled the babe as quickly as possible before helping his brother sit up and gently pressing the newborn into his arms. The look that crossed Loki's face was touching, to say the least. He looked down at the babe with an expression of wonder and slowly passed his thumb over its bloodied, wrinkled forehead, stroking it gently. Thor watched with a matching smile all his own, pleased that he had done so well. He really deserved a ceremony for this, or something equally celebratory.

"Oh my…oh _wow_," Loki said, a smile stretching his chapped lips as he held back an incredulous laugh. He held the baby close to his chest while it screamed and flailed its tiny limbs, trying to escape from its confines. Thor waited another minute before moving in to take the child back.

"Let me clean him," he said when Loki resisted.

The babe was reluctantly handed over and Thor cut the now limp, white umbilical cord with his dagger before moving back toward the fire and his shield of warm water. He carried the boy as if he were a holy relic and he felt Loki's hawk-like, protective gaze on his back the entire time. Dipping the edge of the towel into the water, he slowly and carefully cleaned the blood and fluid away from the babe's eyes, nose, and mouth. He screamed and cried the entire time, not at all pleased with being handled in such a manner, but in due time he was properly dried off and rearranged within the soft, red folds of Thor's own cape.

"Here," Thor said, placing the child back in his right place in the crook of Loki's arms.

He began to clean the area, mopping up some of the blood and making sure Loki was cleaned and comfortable as well; the last thing they needed was to attract predators through the smell of the blood. Thor was very thorough; he burned the soiled towel along with the afterbirth, and made sure the dirty water was properly boiled before emptying the contents of the shield out into the snow. Loki noticed none of his brother's activities; he was so absorbed in staring at his son that all of Jötunheim could have come crashing down around him and he probably wouldn't have batted an eyelash.

Thor watched him play with the tiny hands that immediately latched onto an offered finger and held on. The baby was still wailing, but its louder cries were quickly turning into hiccups. Loki shushed the baby softly and stroked his cheeks with his fingers, as if terrified of hurting him. He was just so _tiny_. There was no denying that the look on Loki's face was one of joy. It was good to see his brother happy, truly _happy_ about something. It had been far too long since he had seen Loki smile in that way. Although, he wouldn't be smiling for long if the cold got in and settled in the infant's lungs. Thor brought over the extra clothes and held them up to show Loki.

"I cannot," his brother said, shaking his head. "I don't think I have the strength to transform right now, and it would be a shame to ruin the clothes."

"In the morning then, after you have rested," Thor shrugged.

He gathered both pelts and sat down beside Loki, somewhat pleased when his brother chose to lean against him. There was a bond between them now that he was sure nothing could ever break. He felt it in his heart, and he knew Loki felt it as well.

"Look at him," Loki said with pride, "he is _magnificent_."

Thor looked. The infant stretched his arms about his face and hiccupped violently, squirming like a fish out of water. Fine, soft black hair covered his tiny head and his wrinkled face was still red, but he was a sight to behold. There was no doubt in Thor's mind that he would one day grow to be just like his father. He felt a surge of pride swell within his heart, pride for his brother, who had somehow survived an ordeal only women experienced. Thor was positive that _he_ never would have managed to live through the pain of childbirth, and was consequentially grateful that he would never _have_ to. But still, the miracle of life…never before had he witnessed such a phenomenon, but he felt truly blessed to have been present to witness _this_ one.

"He'll be handsome when he grows older," Thor said, reaching forth to stroke the babe's tiny, velvety soft nose.

"He is handsome _now_," Loki snorted. He was silent for a moment, staring down into the soft, round face swathed in the red cape. "I did this," he said. "I…I created him. Life. Out of all the—the things I've done, out of all the death and destruction I've caused, I still managed to _create_ this wonderful…_person!_"

"Don't let it go to your head," Thor chuckled. "I would hope you aren't planning on going through this again…"

"Never in my _life_."

"Good, because _next time_ I might not be around to help you."

"Duly noted," Loki said.

The baby let loose an ear piercing wail, demanding their attention once more. Loki shushed him by pressing his fingertip into the wide-open little mouth, which greedily clamped down.

"He's hungry," Loki realized, "he's trying to suckle. Odin's beard, I have nothing to feed him with!"

The near despair in his brother's voice made Thor remember the skin of milk still tucked safely in the sack. He scrambled for it, throwing the furs back and grinning madly when he pulled it free.

"Our mother sees more than Heimdall," he said as he held the skin just out of reach of the fire, trying to warm its contents. "She packed goat's milk, and this skin looks like those used for nursing foals. You will have to thank her when we return to Asgard."

"She will deny everything, say it was a mistake, and come up with a thousand excuses," Loki sputtered, grateful for his mother's keen sixth sense. "She is wiser than she lets on."

Thor brought the skin over and helped Loki hold it. The babe latched onto the rubbery, nippled end and began to suck greedily, calming his frantic movements as he finally began filling his belly. Loki sighed and nestled back against Thor's shoulder the moment he sat back down. The sound of nursing was the only sound to be heard, that and Loki's steady breathing. The trickster could not keep his hands from touching the newborn. He stroked every inch of soft skin, traced the delicate shell of the babe's ears, smoothed his hair down and held his tiny hand. Thor could not help but reach out and touch the child as well, and Loki allowed him the privilege. This was his nephew, after all. He felt an overwhelming protective instinct rise up within him, and Thor knew that no matter what happened from this day onward, he would strive to protect the child. He didn't even notice Loki was looking at him until he spoke.

"Thank you," he said, "for not leaving me…for—for everything."

A pleasant flush rose to Thor's cheeks and he shrugged modestly, though on the inside he was practically beaming.

"I am your brother," he said, "and I will _always_ be there for you."

Thor's arm wound its way around Loki's shoulders, hugging him again. Though it was freezing, neither man noticed. The silence between them was warm, comfortable; they didn't feel the need to ruin the moment with words. The babe nursed until he was fast asleep, and Loki set the skin aside. There was enough milk left to last a few more feedings, but by then Thor knew he would have the both of them safe within the walls of Asgard, and he would come up with an adequate excuse for the child. They found him, perhaps, an orphan, and Loki, out of the good of his heart, took him in. He wasn't sure how many would actually believe that, but he was willing to give anything a try.

"What are you going to name him?" Thor asked sleepily as he fought to stay awake just a while longer.

"I don't know yet," Loki yawned, "I will think of something fitting later…right now I need to sleep."

"Aye, I hear you."

The furs were drawn up around their necks and Loki didn't ask before using his brother as a pillow; Thor didn't mind, though, simply curled his fingers around Loki's shoulder and leaned his cheek against his dark hair. He was tired, from a lack of sleep, from delivering the baby, from being terrified out of his mind and from dealing with Loki. Sleep was a most welcome diversion from being awake.

"Um…brother?" Loki whispered, right as Thor felt himself being drawn into the welcoming arms of oblivion.

"Yes, Loki."

"Let us not speak of this again."

"Agreed. _Ever_."

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><p><strong>AN: One more chapter to go, guys, and then we're all done. I hope this was okay for you to read and stuff; it's my first mpreg soooo yeah...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Last chapter. I want to thank everyone for reading; I'm glad it was so well-received, especially with this being my first time writing mpreg. You all have been more than lovely and a writer couldn't ask for nicer readers.**

**I also want to give a heads up and let everyone know that I AM working on a sort of epilogue for this, but I'm not sure if I'm going to post it as an attachment to this chapter or another story all its own; therefore, if you're interested, it might be a good idea to put me on Author Alert. If not, keep checking back. I'll have something out soon enough.**

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><p>Had he known how little sleep he'd actually be getting, Thor never would have bothered trying in the first place. The babe slept and cried, slept and cried, ate, slept and cried in a cycle that seemed never-ending. Loki didn't seem to mind it, and in fact indulged the child every chance he got. Thor, on the other hand, very much desired to sew the babe's mouth shut. Needless to say, Loki didn't approve of that suggestion, and Thor banished himself to the rear of the cave. It did little good, though, for the baby's cries echoed off the walls, hungry and tired all at once. His head ached from the noise until he thought it would split in half, and yet Loki's son showed no signs of stopping. Finally, Thor gave up and tried to be of some use. In mere minutes, it seemed, the milk was all gone, and he had cooked the last of the meat and the bread for Loki. The storms outside seemed to be letting up to where traveling would not be so hazardous, and they were most likely already under the all-seeing eye of Heimdall. It was time for them to return to Asgard, and this time around Thor knew Loki would make no protestations.<p>

"Come," Thor said during a lull in the babe's monstrous wailing (_Surely enough to bring all of Jötunheim to its knees_, he thought to himself), "see now if you have strength enough to return yourself to your true form, so that we may leave this cave once and for all. It is not wise to tarry here much longer."

"You forget that _I_ managed just fine for months," Loki said, though he didn't bother arguing; Thor was in one of his _moods_.

Handing the baby off to Thor, he stood up and let the furs fall to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and held his hands out on either side of him. He touched his thumbs to his fore- and ring finger and exhaled slowly. Out of his mouth poured a thick green smoke, and it curled around him like wispy serpents, winding around his waist and each of his legs, slithering and twisting until he was almost completely concealed within the mists. He took another breath and slowly blew outward; all the smoke disappeared in an instant, as if blown away by the swiftest and winds, and Loki was himself once more. He swayed in his spot and placed his fingers against either side of his temple, massaging his skin furiously.

"I'll have a headache for days," he lamented. "Giving birth drained my powers more than I want to admit."

"That will teach you to do it again," Thor said, pointing to the pile of clothes by the waning fire.

Loki dressed very slowly and pulled on the pants and boots with a sigh of relief, even though he hadn't really suffered in the cold. Thor was sure it felt good to be clothed again after such a long time of having nothing more than a mere cloak to shield oneself from the icy wind. He wanted to ask Loki exactly how it was that he hadn't froze to death months ago, but by the time his brother finished buckling his belt the babe had grown restless and started to cry once more. Thor groaned and handed it back to its father, feeling as though he could not escape fast enough. Yes, he wanted very much to help his brother, but he also couldn't wait to leave them to their own devices and flee to his own room, _alone_, where he could actually manage to sleep through the entire night without waking _once_.

Loki offered to help him clean the cave, but he was immediately shot down; he would hold the baby, Thor would gather everything back together, because Thor was the faster of the two and hadn't just pushed a baby out of from between his thighs. Loki had drawn his lips together in a tight line when Thor had explained it to him using those exact words, but stayed out of the way…for the most part. He tried to pick something up every now and then, only to be shouted at; finally, exasperated, he moved to the back of the cave, taking up the sullen spot Thor had occupied earlier and sitting cross-legged on the ground. He spoke calming words to his son, telling him of the wonders of Asgard and the beauty of its people, but also warning him that they were untrustworthy and judgmental, and that there would most likely be unpleasant words spoken on both sides. Thor pretended not to listen.

He moved slowly now, taking his time now that he knew he wouldn't have to wrestle Loki into submission as he had thought he would, tying him up and all but dragging him back to Asgard. As long as his brother was in agreement, there was no real need to rush. A good thing, considering he was still so very tired. First thing he planned on doing when he reached home was to crawl into his own bed and sleep for hours. After, of course, he managed to sort something out for Loki. He was tired, not completely insensitive, though he was sure his brother would somehow manage to mistake them for the one and the same. Time passed, as it often did, and within an hour Thor was sure he had thought of everything. The fire was completely put out, the sack was repacked with their belongings, and he had even gone so far as to sprinkle fresh snow on the ground to cover over traces of their scent.

"Ready to leave this frozen wasteland, brother?" he called back to where Loki was hiding.

He received no answer, even after a moment or two of waiting, and it struck him that in the past hour he had heard nothing, no sounds at all, wailing or otherwise, coming from either Loki or the babe. Strange, considering how much noise he had to endure for the past several hours. Stranger still that Loki was silent; as much as he loved to hear himself talk, it was a wonder how he ever closed his mouth enough to listen. But no, nothing, not even so much as a whimper. With a feeling of dread rising up in him, Thor picked up Mjolnir and took a few hesitant steps toward the darkness consuming the back of the cave.

"Loki," he called out, "we must make haste if we are to beat the blizzards! I promise, it is only a short walk unto a clear spot and then we shall be free of this cursed realm!"

"Go without me," came a feeble response.

Somewhat relieved that his brother had not succumbed to some hidden foe, Thor still sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I do not have time for your _games_," he said as he made his way in the direction Loki's voice had come from.

Ten feet back he stumbled upon something soft that almost wound around his ankles. He bent down and touched the strange thing, but when he picked it up he realized it was only his discarded cape. He rolled the soft material through his fingers, thinking for a moment. The cloth was cool, as if it had not been touched by anyone for hours, but if such was the case then it meant that the baby was no longer covered…which really could only mean a few things in his mind, all of them very unpleasant. With his stomach churning he called out again, his tone teetering on the brink of nervousness.

"Loki, where are you? Where's your son?"

A strange noise to his left, like the shuffling of Volstagg trying to make himself comfortable in a cramped chair, caught his attention, and he took a few more steps to see Loki crouched on the ground. He was trying to shield something from sight, but failing; Thor could see the hind end of some sort of creature. Uncertainty gripped him. Had something happened to the baby?

"Just leave," Loki sighed, barely moving.

A high-pitched whinny bounced off the walls with the same annoying intensity of an infant's cry, and as Thor neared he saw the source of the commotion. Curled up at Loki's feet was a young dapple gray foal. It was a beautiful one, to be sure, with a light grey coat and dark grey spots covering its rump. Its nose was a soft, pinkish white and its eyes a dark, warm brown. Its long, gangly legs were folded neatly beneath its body…all eight of them. The colt flicked its ears and shivered a bit, but rested its head in Loki's lap. Thor noticed little else beyond the legs after he set eyes on them. Loki merely looked up at him with a rather controlled expression on his face.

"Where did this come from?" Thor asked. "And…and where is your _son?_"

Just now he noticed the distinct lack of infant in the cave, and his brother was busy stroking the foal's silky neck with a gentle, affectionate touch.

"I should have known something like this was going to happen," he said, scratching the pink tipped snout and eliciting a happy squeal from his newest charge. "Switching forms before the pregnancy was complete—I should have _known_, such a stupid, _novice_ mistake! I am so, so sorry…"

"_Wait,_" Thor said, deadpanning as he stared down at the colt. Realization dawned on him, slowly, as Loki continued to pet its back in a rather familiar fashion. "Is _that_…is that supposed to be—"

"My son?" Loki supplied for him. "It would appear so. I am not _entirely_ unsurprised, though…I _had_ hoped that whatever happened would be delayed for a while longer."

"You _knew_ this would happen? You _knew_ and you didn't bother to, oh, I don't know, perhaps _warn me_ about it?"

"Suspected, yes. The baby is affected by my own powers, though he will no doubt develop his own now. While he was within me, linked, the effects of _my_ magic were strongest. Now that we no longer share such a connection, he has reverted back to his true form."

"His _true_—Loki, I cannot believe this!" Thor shouted, waving his arms and startling the poor foal. It nickered, frightened, and Loki hushed it with a quick pat to the neck and a glare in Thor's direction. "Why did you not _say_ something when he was transforming?" Thor asked. "Perhaps there was something we could have done to stop it!"

"Don't be stupid," Loki snapped, "there was nothing that either you or I could have done to prevent this, and as I said, I didn't _know_ it was going to happen, it just _did!_ I neither had the time to call you, nor did I _want_ to. I—I wanted to spend time with…with my son before he changed completely."

Thor wanted to call Loki's bluff, because _no one_ could have predicted one's son turning into a _horse_, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Though Loki's eyes were dry and his voice calm and even, the look on his face when he thought Thor wasn't looking spoke volumes of sorrow and regret. Try as he might to maintain that cool, collected demeanor, it cracked every now and then, and just enough to allow Thor to see through the façade. His brother was hurting, and there was nothing that could be done this time to fix the situation, or make it any better. His son was a colt, and he no doubt saw it as his own fault for transforming before the pregnancy was complete. Thor knelt and set a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder.

"I am sure he will grow to be a strong and worthy steed," he said, unsure of what else could be appropriate in such a strange situation…as if the whole past couple _days_ hadn't been strange enough.

"I will be _damned_ to the very pits of _Hel_ if I allow my _son_ to become _any man's_ steed," Loki hissed, throwing Thor's hand from his shoulder.

"Forgive me," Thor was quick to apologize, "I meant no offense, I just…I don't know what to say, this time."

"Then say _nothing_."

The rift opened once more, the tiniest of cracks in the bridge, and the ropes began to fray. Thor immediately backed off, not wanting to cause another fight, not when they had made so much progress. It seemed as though Loki had been just as content to use him as pillow as long as it was convenient, but now that the danger had all passed it was acceptable to act as though Thor had just rubbed salt into his wounds. Had it all been as shallow as that then? Was it just for show? All the tears and the brotherly hugging, and the promises and the confessions, had they all been a lie manufactured by the trickster god to get what he wanted? Thor didn't want to believe it, but…

"I had thought it was possible to keep him," Loki said quietly, demanding Thor's attention even though he had said he wanted to be left alone. "I allowed myself to believe, for the briefest and _sweetest_ of moments, that I could be _happy_. That I could keep the child under some pretense that he was not my own, but adopted, and I was his caretaker. It would have worked, Thor, _it would have worked_."

"I know," Thor said, "I'm so sorry."

"I can't keep him like this," Loki grumbled, rubbing his thumbs and forefingers back and forth over the velvety tips of the foal's ears, "but I can't just leave him. I don't even know where I can _send_ him!"

"We can still return to Asgard," Thor suggested. "We might stable him and figure out what to do there. He will be well taken care of and you can see him every day. Please, brother, it is cold and the colt will withstand no better than a babe. Let us _leave_."

"What am I going to tell people?"

"Let me worry about that…for now, I need you to _get up_."

Thor didn't wait for a response this time, but nabbed his brother beneath his arms and bodily hauled him to his feet. Loki hung limp in his grip for a moment before finding his footing and pushing Thor's hands aside. The foal brayed frantically at the loss of its father and struggled to follow. Rear first it gathered four spindly hind legs beneath it and rose upward; the front legs followed and after a near tumble the colt stood on its own, flicking is little tail and whinnying miserably without Loki by its side. Thor cracked a small smile and crossed his arms over his chest as the colt took two ungainly steps in their direction and promptly fell back to the ground with its legs in a tangle. Thor snorted.

"You'd think a horse born with _eight_ legs would have little trouble standing upright," he mocked, earning another heated glare. Loki frowned, immediately on the defensive for his child, though he longed to carry the poor thing instead of allowing him to walk on his own.

"He'll get used to them before long," he said, "and then he'll make you eat your words, O' Arrogant One."

Thor found himself eating his words sooner than he would have expected under any other circumstances, as his brotherly absolutely _insisted_ now that they wait for the foal to gain its footing. Like any other young animal, he took to standing well enough, which led to him walking and hopping about. Loki seemed just as content to help him along by dashing quickly in one direction, which forced the colt to jump back or dodge to the side. Running, jumping, dodging, and kicking soon followed, much to Thor's dismay. With all eight legs, he moved faster than any _normal_ foal, a fact Loki took an obscene amount of pride in. he laughed as Thor helped him chase the young horse about the small cave, slipping and sliding while his son did nothing more than prance about in a dainty, haughty manner.

"He shall be the swiftest horse within the Nine Realms!" Loki laughed as he tried to help catch his son. Every time either man got near, the foal just slipped between their fingers like water and smoke, whinnying happily through it all.

"Blast!" Thor cursed after another failed attempt to grab the creature ended with him landing on his face. "He's a slippery devil, brother. Perhaps you should name him as such."

"Hmm," Loki hummed, holding his hands out and inviting the colt to come to him, "you have a point. Slippery, aye? Then Sleipnir is a name that will suit you, my child. May you live up to the moniker in your years to come."

"For what it's cost us trying to gain hold of him," Thor panted, "he better be able to carry a man straight to the depths of Hel! Now, since I've been soundly thrashed by a mere foal, might we _please_ leave this rock?"

"Yes, yes, lead the way…"

_ Finally_, Thor thought to himself as he snatched up his sack and Mjolnir. He took up his furs while Loki grabbed his cape and tied it about Sleipnir in a way that would protect him from some of the wind. It was not much, but until they were able to stable him, it was all that could be done. Thor tossed Loki the extra fur and stood at the mouth of the cave, more than ready to call on Heimdall to return them home. Sleipnir seemed impatient as well with all the prancing he did at Thor's side. Thor had half a mind to take hold of the colt to ease his excitement before he let it take over. In the next moment, however, before Thor could make good on his supposition, Slepnir took flight, bolting out into the snow and almost out of sight.

"No!" Loki yelled, scrambling forth and closely followed by Thor, who felt himself growing old and gray from worry. Apparently, the fact that his nephew had transformed into a _horse_ had not diminished his sense of familial duty. Thankfully, Sleipnir had not managed to get too far, and stood just over the other side of a large snow drift.

"Od's _blood!"_ Thor said, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart still danced a frantic rhythm. "We shall need a bridle to keep this young beast tamed!"

"I don't suppose you have one," Loki said morosely, not pleased with the idea of his son being haltered like a common animal, and yet seeing no other way around it if they were going to keep him from dashing off again.

"Nay, but I do have some rope; it seems our dear mother thought of _everything_."

"I shall be very interested to hear her excuses when I ask her what her intentions were."

A makeshift bridle was quickly constructed and though Sleipnir certainly wasn't thrilled with the idea of being tied and restrained, he didn't put up much of a fight. Loki pet his neck and sides while whispering soothing words into his felt-tipped ears the whole time, and Thor did his very best to be as gentle as possible while sliding the bridle over his ears and nose. It was only when the rope was tightened that Sleipnir panicked, letting out a high-pitched neigh that pierced Thor's ears and made his head ache. He tried to move quickly to get it over with, forgoing some of his earlier gentility, but Sleipnir only tried to shy out of his grasp.

"Steady him!" Thor cautioned.

Loki tried, but the colt let out another terrified cry and began to struggle fiercely. He lashed out at the both of them, using his sharp little hooves and baring his teeth. Were it not for the rope about his neck, he would have broken free. Moving carefully, Thor managed to wrestle Sleipnir to the ground amid Loki's protests of "No, no, no!" and "Don't hurt him!" With one leg thrown over the colt's heaving side, Thor stroked his neck and shook his head.

"What got into him?" he asked. "Perhaps he decided he didn't like snow?"

"I doubt it is the _snow_ that frightens him," Loki said, still standing.

He stared hard at a spot right behind Thor and clenched his fists; a green light shone around his hands, as if he were readying himself to fight. Thor slowly turned around and immediately wished they had remained in the cave for just a while longer. On the top of the snow drift sat four large wolves, each as large as a horse. Thor could see their drooling maws even at the distance, overflowing with wicked six-inch fangs. Icicles clung to their steel gray fur and steam escaped their nostrils as they snorted and snarled. Turning back around, he saw that four more wolves had them from the flat plains, and were steadily closing in. One of the wolves, slightly larger than the others a darker in color, paced back and forth, eyeing them with ferocious intensity. The other wolves kept at a respectful distance and did not move. Clearly this wolf was their leader, and he had them surrounded.

Thor got to his feet and laid hand to Mjolnir, which already felt lighter in his hands than it had in the past few days; impending battle did that sometimes. He hefted his weapon against his shoulder and glanced around, mentally taking count once more and dividing the forces between him and his brother. If it was a fight they wanted, then it was a fight they were going to get. Loki's eyes were already glowing and the magic essence swirling over and around his hands crackled with an unknown, mystical energy. Thunder cracked overhead, followed swiftly by a streak of lightning. The snow began to clear and Thor allowed himself a savage grin.

"How dost thou feel, Brother Loki?" he asked in a mocking tone, speaking in the more formal tongue they had been taught as children.

"Well enough," Loki responded. His own grin was feral, and he held his hands out before him—the air shimmered and his staff, the one modeled after Gungnir, appeared in midair. Grasping the pole tightly with both hands, he swung the staff around his waist and established a half crouched fighting stance beside Sleipnir.

The wolves stalked closer, circling like carrion birds over a battlefield, snapping their jaws and shaking their heads as they moved in, tightening the circle around the two brothers. The nearer they got, the more frightened Sleipnir grew. His little belly heaved with the rapidity of his breathing and he squealed every time one of the wolves growled in his direction. They were hungry, and no doubt they had been lying in wait for some time for the little foal to show its head. Loki and Thor remained standing back to back, each facing their share of the wolf pack. Loki waved his free hand and sent a wave of green orbs floating outward in a defensive circle; each orb exploded whenever a wolf came too close. Thor joined in, hurling Mjolnir outward and scattering the pack again and again without actually driving them off. After a few singed noses and too many close calls, the pack retreated several feet and sat down, keeping watch.

Thor felt as though they were getting nowhere. The wolves were not frightened by mere light tricks and flying rocks. They wanted Sleipnir, and they were not showing any signs of backing down or giving up. Their leader, the gray wolf who was missing an ear and half his nose, grew bolder than the members of his pack. He dashed forward at times, snapping at Sleipnir and Loki, growling at Thor and challenging their strength. Loki fended him off each time, swinging and jabbing with the trident end of his staff. A few near misses almost cost him an arm, but Thor was there each time, flinging Mjolnir into the mix and forcing the alpha back.

"This is getting us nowhere," Loki snarled. Blood dripped down the side of his head where one of the beast's massive paws had struck him.

"Agreed," Thor panted. "Shall we show these mongrels the reason why no one threatens the Sons of Odin?"

Loki swung his staff in an arc high above his head, twirling it expertly through his fingers, and Mjolnir crackled with electricity. The wolves howled and paced back and forth, snapping their jaws and licking their chops as their leader gave the secret signal to move in. Then, with a speed neither Loki nor Thor anticipated he sprung forward, ahead of his pack and aiming for a direct kill. Sleipnir squealed and churned his legs, but was unable to make it off the ground. Loki, seeing his son in imminent danger, stabbed his staff deep into the snow. The ground erupted, rocks and snow flying into the air and propelling the alpha away. The beast hovered long enough for Loki to follow through with a second attack; he threw out his palm and made a three-fingered sign. A thin ribbon o magic shot forth from the middle of his palm and struck the falling wolf midair.

The other wolves watched as their leader yelped and fell to the ground in a heap. He did not get up for several moments, and when he finally managed to his feet, it was very obvious the simple attack had injured him in some grave manner. The other wolves sprang into action, charging forward, aiming for Thor this time as Loki presented too much of a threat. If they thought the other son would be any easier a target, they were sorely mistaken. Mjolnir sliced through the air in wide, graceless arcs as Thor beat his attackers off from close quarters. The hammer connected with its targets faithfully, cracking bones in half and shattering teeth. Thor bellowed happily, feeling adrenaline and the joy of battle surge through him.

Loki held his own, utilizing his staff as a conductor for his magic as well as a weapon. He stabbed and struck the wolves aiming for their eyes and nose. He jabbed it into the ground, curled his leg around the shaft and spun around like a dancer, leaving his hands free to lay waste to the ones that dared come too near to his son. A vicious expression of joy crossed his face when he struck one his foes with a spell that turned its insides to mist; an empty wolf pelt fell to the ground like discarded clothes. He deceived another with the illusion of a young horse sprinting away, and led it off into the distance; yet a third was badly burned by the fire he commanded from his fingertips. Thor caught only glimpses of his brother's prowess, but admired greatly what he managed to see. He sent two of his wolves limping off with bloodied snouts and broken jaws, and the remaining five hesitated in attacking. The leader snapped at them, urging them forward, but the gruesome fate that had met the other hunters was enough incentive to hold them at bay. Thor clutched a spot on his arm where one of the wolves had snapped at him and grimaced.

"Go on," he shouted, "leave us, unless you haven't had enough to taste of Mjolnir's metal!"

His words seemed to spur the alpha wolf to action, as if he had personally insulted the leader of the pack. The larger wolf grabbed one his hunters by the scruff of its neck and threw it forward, trying to force it to attack, but the poor wolf merely curled its tail between its legs and whimpered. The others implemented the same technique, lowering themselves onto their bellies and crawling forward to nuzzle their alpha's sides. He snapped at them, most likely frustrated, but they knew when they were beat. One small mouthful was not worth their lives. Loki sneered and leaned on his staff, looking down his nose at their defeated adversaries.

"I think they've had enough, brother," he said. Sleipnir brayed in accordance, shaking his head at the pack.

That seemed to be the last straw for the alpha male. He howled, a frighteningly gruesome, guttural noise that froze the hairs on the back of Thor's neck and turned Loki's face white. Sleipnir fell silent for the first time since the attack and quivered in fright. The wolf crouched low to the ground, and with a brief tensing of its powerfully coiled muscles, it leapt into the air, straight at the colt. Thor and Loki held aloft their weapons, ready to repel the wolf, but, in the end, there was no need. Out of nowhere came a dark flash of fur and teeth, and another flash of white. The big male tumbled to the side, taken down midair by—and Thor couldn't believe his eyes—the two wolves he had first come across the other day.

The black male had his foe by the throat and was slowly tearing into him, while his mate sank her fangs into its belly. Blood quickly stained the snow, bright, gleaming red against the stark white, like jewels. Slowly, the wolf stopped breathing. His legs pedaled the air feebly at first, but then slowed their movement as the life bled out of him. His orange eyes glossed over and paled, and steam slowly stopped escaping from his gaping maw. The wolves holding him down did not let go until he was dead, and when they turned, the rest of the pack whimpered in submission. All of them remained on the ground, a few covered their noses with their paws, and all of them laid their ears flat against their heads.

Thor watched, amused as the new alpha stepped forward and nuzzled each wolf in turn, accepting them and forgiving them, in his own way. The female turned back to Thor and stuck her nose in his face, sniffing him in remembrance, and, perhaps, thanks. He chuckled and raised his hands to stroke her face and ears, and scratch her neck. Loki just stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the spectacle.

"Is there something you wish to tell me?" he asked, tensing when the she-wolf turned her brilliant golden gaze on him.

"I met these two noble creatures when I first came to Jötunheim. I, ah, _stumbled _on their den and they tried to eat me, but we managed to come to an agreement."

"Just friends of yours, then?"

Thor laughed and gave the wolf a pat before sending her on with her mate and their new pack. She sniffed each one and licked their ears, giving her approval as well before loping off toward the snowdrift, back to her den. Her mate followed, and behind him loped the rest of the newly initiated pack, tongues hanging out of the mouths as they leapt and jumped around their new leader, playing with him and grateful they had not shared in the same fate as the old alpha. Loki spit at the cooling body of the rabid wolf that had attacked them and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Right," he said, "now that _that's_ all said and done, can we go home now?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Thor wasted no more time in raising Mjolnir high in the sky and calling Heimdall's name as loud as he could. Thunder crackled, followed by something much, _much_ louder. Loki knelt beside Sleipnir and held his arms around the foal's neck to keep him from bolting once more. A beam of energy shot down from the sky, the Bifrost at work, and Thor felt himself being lifted off the ground and hurtled through the air like a missile. The light around them warped into the many colors that gave the Rainbow Bridge its name, and he closed his eyes against the wind in his face. He heard Loki hooting with laughter beside him and smiled; it had been a while since he had last traveled the Bifrost, and even as a child he had always found a certain enchantment in riding its power.

Within seconds Thor felt the energy around him begin to slow, and he braced himself for the inevitable impact of landing, but, as always, he was smoothly lowered to his feet. Loki landed on his knees beside Sleipnir, who looked about in a most frightened manner, scared out of his poor wits. The golden dome of the Bifrost slowly stopped spinning, and Loki got to his feet, followed by Sleipnir, who huddled close to his hip. Heimdall stood before them, a grin on his dark face as he eyed the brothers.

"Welcome back, Thor Odinson," he said, nodding. "I see you have returned with your word intact." He set his amber gaze on Loki, who stared back, unabashed. "I see also that few things have changed since we last met, Loki Silvertongue."

"_Thank you_," Thor said, holding a hand up, "but we really must be going. I must speak with my father about matters most urgent."

"Your father has already arrived," Heimdall stated, gesturing to outside the dome. "He awaits you now…"

Loki's smirk dropped like a dead fly and he swallowed thickly. Thor noticed his fists clenching and quickly turned on his brother, lest he try something foolish. There was nowhere for him to run or hide this time, no lies for him to spin, no tricks he might play to enchant. Thor grabbed his brother by the shoulders and then cupped his face, forcing Loki to look at him. His green eyes were filled with fear and uncertainty, and not a little anguish. He had not wanted to return, and yet here he was. Thor could think of nothing to say, and so he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Loki's. They inhaled deeply for a moment, sharing the same breath and the same air. Loki's hands came up and rested on Thor's wrists, squeezing lightly.

"I promise you it will all turn out fine," Thor whispered.

"You are lying to me," Loki choked, closing his eyes tight and taking a great, shuddering breath.

"I am not. Now listen to me, _listen_: I will _not_ let any harm come to you _or_ Sleipnir. I swear, on my honor as a man and _as your brother_, I will _not_ let anything happen to you!"

Loki grit his teeth and wrapped his arms around Thor's neck, hugging him as if he never planned to let go. Thor fisted his hand in Loki's hair and held him just as close, feeling the other man's heartbeat against his own chest; Loki was as much a part of him as Mjolnir. There was no turning from a bond such as that. Thor slowly and reluctantly pulled Loki's arms from around his neck. Using his thumbs, he wiped the tears away from his brother's eyes and pressed his lips to the middle of Loki's forehead. He lingered a moment longer than necessary and then grinned a cocky, assuming grin. He slapped Loki's shoulder and pulled him along; Sleipnir tailed after, dancing almost out of sight behind the brothers.

Slow steps brought them to the bridge, and upon that bridge stood several people, most of which Thor was quite sure Loki never wanted to see again, least of all Odin. Balder stood by his side, his brow furrowed and blue eyes troubled. Sif stood beside him, biting her bottom lip and looking down to the ground. The Warriors Three stood off to Odin's right, no doubt there simply in case a fight broke out. Frigga took up residence directly in front of her husband, and out of everyone there, she was the first to say anything or make a move. She cried out Loki's name and ran forward, throwing her arms around her youngest son and pulling him close to her bosom. Loki wrapped his arms about her back and held her tight as he buried his face in her golden hair.

It was obvious to everyone there that attempting to come between mother and son was a very bad idea. Frigga wept and threaded her fingers through Loki's hair, touching his neck and cheeks just to reassure herself that he was actually there, hugging her, and not just an illusion. Odin watched, his face a blank slate, an emotionless and unreadable mask that Thor could not decide was a good or bad sign. Deciding addressing the All-Father was within their best interests, he took a bold step forward and bowed to Odin in what he hoped was an appropriate display of deference. His father looked at him for a moment before nodding his approval, and Thor returned to his feet.

"Please don't be angry, father," he said softly, "I only wished to see my brother again. I thought that in two years much has changed among our people…and perhaps much had changed in Loki. I thought perhaps it was time for him to return home."

Odin sighed and closed his eye. Loki had lifted his head from his mother's shoulder and watched now with a wide-eyed look that bespoke his reservations. But Frigga held him tight in her arms and refused to let go. Thor glanced askew at the two of them, sending Loki what he hoped was a confident wink. He had promised his brother all would turn out for the best, and come Hel or high water, he planned on keeping his promise. Seeing as how his father wasn't going to address him, he took a step back, planning on rejoining Loki's side, but in the first second he moved his foot, Odin opened his eye and spoke.

"Two years ago I lost one son to Jötunheim," he said, his booming voice ringing in Thor's ears. "A day ago I thought I had lost the other. Now both are returned to me, and yet I find that neither man who stands before me resembles the boys I have lost." He smiled, a strange, sad smile that confused Thor and frightened Loki, but he opened his arms and enveloped Thor in a hug. "And yet," he rumbled, "I find that I am overjoyed to have them both returned to me at all."

"Aye, Father," Thor said, slapping Odin's back, relieved beyond measure, "I would have asked for your blessing, but Mother begged me to find Loki; I could not refuse her."

Odin chuckled and kept his son in a one armed hug while they both turned to face Frigga and Loki. Frigga finally released her son from her death grip of a hug and turned to her other two loves with a watery smile on her face. She absolutely radiated her love, and it shone on her beautiful, rosy face. Speechless with joy, she blew a kiss in her husband's direction, and Odin shook his head with a satisfied, indulgent smile on his face.

"What man can resist his mother's tears?" he asked. "Any who do can scarcely be called men at all. Loki, come here, my son."

Loki was hesitant to obey at first, but a reassuring squeeze from his mother's hand propelled him forward, within grasp of Odin's heavy grip; but his father did not reach for him as he had Thor. Instead, the two men looked at one another, as if having a private conversation only they were privy to, speaking some secret sort of language without moving tongue and lips. Thor held his breath, ready to take that leap of faith and step between Odin and Loki if the need arose. Frigga clasped her hands in front of her face, and shared a glance with Thor; she was thinking the same thing, he knew in that moment and he felt relieved to know he would not be the only one willing to test Odin's temper. However, the need for such bravery never arose, and Odin stepped forward, letting go of Thor as he did so. Loki watched with a wary eye as the All-Father set a heavy hand on his shoulder, and then moved his grip to the back of his head.

"My son," Odin whispered, "you have…_much_ to answer for, we have not forgotten this…. I'm afraid your time away from Asgard has not lessened your guilt, nor has it banished the reminder of your involvement in what almost led to the destruction of Jötunheim."

Loki lowered his head and a sneer curled upon his lips. Thor took a step forward, inhaling deeply to steel himself against their father's wrath, but much to his surprise Odin was not finished speaking. In a gesture of tenderness he brushed the high ridge of his son's cheekbone with a weathered thumb, forcing their gazes to meet once more. The anger in Loki's face was clear, almost dangerous, as though a small war within him was threatening to break out at any moment. Odin's expression was one of exact juxtaposition, calm and weary, yet pleased.

"You are, however, my _son_" he continued in that strange, soft voice he so seldom used since they had been but boys, "no matter what it is that you have done in the past…and I am glad to have you returned to me."

Thor watched a swift and fascinating change overcome Loki's face as he realized what it was Odin was saying. His anger turned to shock and disbelief, and he shook his head, denying the possibility of forgiveness. Thor knew that such compassion was lost on his brother, who had somehow convinced himself that the world had shown him little compassion since his birth, but it was hard to argue when Odin pulled him close, into a strong, fierce hug that left little room for doubt. He noticed Loki refused to hug back, but that he allowed the hug to take place was enough a response. When Odin pulled back after a long, tense minute, Loki's head was bowed.

"I do not know why you do this," he whispered, and the honest bewilderment in his voice almost tore Thor's heart out.

"Because you are my _son_," Odin replied, "and as I once said, I have _always_ loved you. You will be held accountable for your actions, Loki…but your punishment will not be severe. This I give you my word on."

Frigga began to cry happily in earnest and Thor pumped his fist into the air with a silent exclamation of joy. Even Sif smiled for Loki's sake, and the Warriors Three, with Fandral in the lead, were already headed back to the palace to prepare a celebratory feast. Loki looked to Thor with a shaky, unsure smile on his face, but it was there all the same. Thor gave him a thumbs-up, a gesture he had learned on Midgard meant for good luck and a job well done. Loki reflected the gesture, studying his hand thoughtfully as he raised his thumb. Sleipnir neighed and danced into view, spinning himself in a circle, as if also pleased with the brief, unexpected, but welcome end to a very trying two days.

"What's this?" Odin asked, eyeing the colt with interest, as he had no doubt never seen a horse with eight legs before.

Loki held his breath for a moment and Thor opened his mouth to make a saving remark, but his brother halted his words at the last moment with a raised hand. His eyes were closed and he was contemplating something; Thor would have given anything in that moment to know, because a wicked look crossed his brother's face that insinuated future mischief. Odin stared at his sons curiously, but then Loki opened his emerald eyes and smiled toothily. He made a low bow and gestured toward the colt, saying in his soft, silky voice that Thor knew had more to do with the trickster aspect of his personality,

"Father, I have brought you a _gift_…"

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><p><strong>AN: I also want everyone to know that yes, I realize that in the movie Odin is riding an eight-legged horse when he rescues his sons and friends from the Frost Giants...but I didn't realize it until after this story was written. Besides...that horse was the completely wrong color, lol. No, but seriously, this was more of a retelling of a myth than anything, so don't take it too seriously.**


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